Book 2: New Beginnings
by WednesdayMorn
Summary: Isabella and Remus finally get the chance to start anew, to love, to be together, but with Talia going back to Hogwarts for her 2nd year complications begin to arise. Something dark is coming, something that everyone thought was vanquished. The web of lies and secrets begins to get bigger, and they need to start getting ready. [Includes Draco M. & OC - Sirius B. & OC - Part 2 of 5]
1. Surprises

**AN:** Sequel to _Book 1: Reveal Your Secrets._

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing other than my original characters and anything you might not recognize.  
Harry Potter and everything that pertains to it belongs to J. K. Rowling.  
A mixture of the books and movies will be included in this story.

_No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

Spinner's End had been relatively quiet since Talia's return for the summer. Both Isabella and Talia were ignoring Severus, but he took in all in stride. He'd been in worse situations before, _far_ worse than being ignored by his cousin and niece. Isabella would come around eventually, as would Talia—they always did; the two were far too forgiving for their own good. He just needed to bide his time and keep his distance. Isabella had nearly killed him after she'd found out about what had happened, and he did not want to go through that again.

His private quarters at Hogwarts were now missing doors and windows, and the fireplace needed to be rebuilt. He'd escaped that one by the skin of his teeth and sheer luck that Remus had been there to hold Isabella back.

It hurt Isabella that Severus had told everyone about Remus being a werewolf. Remus had resigned to avoid attention, and now he was without a job and she knew from experience that when he didn't have work it drove him mad, made him desperate. The preoccupation about how he was going to pay for his things… It broke her heart just thinking about what he was going through; not being able to sustain a job for a prolonged period just because he was different, having to worry about people's reactions to him being what he was…

No one wanted a werewolf working for them, let alone near them.

Isabella had been looking forward to having Remus be at the castle the following year, so that he could spend more time with Talia—but Severus' rage and jealousy had ruined it. She knew he was jealous even though he'd never admit to it, but it was something that she could pick up on. Isabella knew her cousin well enough to know the reasons behind his actions.

It appeared that Severus was still holding a grudge.

However, Isabella didn't want to even think about that whole ordeal—today she had something special planned for Talia, and nothing would ruin it…

* * *

The summer sun was beating down on the two figures relentlessly, making their skin turn a light shade of blush under their heavy cloaks. Side by side, the two walked, down the cobblestone path that lead away from their home.

After making sure no one was following them or watching them, they turned into a deserted alleyway.

Talia was bubbling with excitement and curiosity, but she hid it well. Today was the first time that she'd left Spinner's End since returning home from Hogwarts, which had been quite a few weeks ago. It was August now, and school would be starting up again the following month, and she'd almost been driven mad while cooped up in the house, but her mother had told her that she needed to rest some more after her whole incident on one specific full moon. There were just some bruises and aches that a potion couldn't cure, but now Talia was better, and her mother had told her that to make up for all the time she'd spent indoors, they were going on a little trip.

Talia had absolutely no idea where their destination was, or what it entailed, but her mother had packed a bag with enough clothes to suggest that wherever they were going, they would be staying overnight.

"Now where is that blasted little—oh, here it is," Isabella said as she produced a bottle cap from her pocket.

Talia looked at her mother questioningly.

"This, my love," Isabella said with a small smile, "is a portkey."

"But it looks like—"

"An old bottle cap, yes, but you see, that's the beauty of it," her mother told her. "Sometimes, when you can't use apparition, you use a portkey—it's basically the same thing, and portkeys need to look like old muggle things so that muggles ignore it. Understand?"

"Oh," said Talia, "no one would think twice about an old bottle cap."

"Yes, my smart little fox," Isabella said teasingly, chuckling. "Now, take my hand, and with the other hand touch it. We need to be touching it for it to work."

Talia did as she was told, covering the hand Isabella was holding the portkey with, with her own. She then gripped her mother's free hand tightly with her own, and after a few seconds of nothing happening, the bottle cap began to glow.

"Hold on tight and do not let go," were the last words Isabella said before the portkey activated, and the alleyway was suddenly empty.

* * *

In the middle of a field of marshland, filled with tall, straw-like grass, two loud splashes could be heard, followed by the distinct voices of Isabella and Talia screaming in surprise. Isabella had expected to land on drier, more stable land, and it was quite the shock when she'd gotten a mouth-full of water upon arrival.

She detested portkeys.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" Talia screeched as she struggled to stand up, the mud underneath her feet slippery and unstable. She was completely drenched from head to toe, and her feet kept sinking in the wet earth.

"Marshland, Talia," Isabella snapped irritably as she stood up slowly, "Now calm yourself."

Talia mumbled an apology and held on to her mother's hands as she helped her stand.

"Can you perform any drying spells?"

"Yes, but it would be pointless to do it here," her mother told her, pulling her wand out of her pocket. "I'll perform them once we get to the Weasley's—"

"The Weasley's?" asked Talia in surprise, "Are we going to see Ron?"

Isabella sighed. The portkey was supposed to leave them in front of the Weasley's home, not in the middle of some water-ridden field with mud and who knew what else.

"Something like that," Isabella told her, "Now c'mon, we need to get out of here. Use your nose, love."

Talia rolled her eyes, but did as her mother asked of her. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath and at first all she could smell was mud and water and grass… but then the scent of baked potatoes and meat filled her nostrils. She could smell spices and other delicious aromas wafting in the light afternoon breeze, and all those scents combined were enough to make her mouth water. Someone was cooking, and it was coming from behind her.

"This way," she said quickly, holding her mother's hand as she followed her nose through the tall grass.

A tall, strangely built house slowly began to come into view as the two grew closer to the marshland's edge. The house was situated outside the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, and was so crazily built that the only thing holding it up was magic and magic alone. It looked like it could have been a farmhouse in a past life, and was composed of several crooked stories that looked to have been added on throughout the years.

There were currently six stories.

In the front yard, there were chickens wandering around, and old Wellington boots, and a rusty cauldron could be seen amongst the oddities. A lopsided sign was stuck in the ground by the front door, announcing its location as: _The Burrow._

There was a large garden in the back of the house, surrounded by a fence and a hedge, as well as trees. It was currently overgrown, filled with weeds and grass that needed cutting, though despite that, there was a visible path that could be seen, and the garden was considerable tidy, overall. There was even a big green pond back there that was filled with frogs!

Off to the side of the garden was a run-down stone outhouse, but the sign that had been sloppily painted on the door proclaimed it to be a broom shed now. There was also a garage around the front, and a little ways away was a chicken coop.

This was definitely **not** Spinner's End. Whereas Spinner's End had a more muggle feel to it, the Burrow was pure magic, and Talia loved it.

"Wow," she said softly as she led her mother out of the marshlands and onto solid earth and green grass.

"Wow indeed," agreed Isabella, before turning to her daughter and saying, "now, let's get you clean and dry before you catch a—OW!"

"I catch a ow?" asked Talia with a chuckle.

"Something bit my ankle," mumbled Isabella as she looked down at her feet. Two little garden gnomes were looking up at her with beady little eyes, each holding a loaf of bread in their hands. "Which one of you did it?"

The little gnomes just giggled amongst themselves before running off into the marsh.

"Can I keep one?" asked Talia as she looked after the running gnomes. She had never seen a garden gnome before. They were little human-like creatures with potato looking heads and black beady eyes—ugly little creatures, but cute nonetheless.

"No," Isabella said in a heartbeat. She did not like garden gnomes. Once when she was little she'd gone out to the garden's behind Prince Manor to play, and there had been gnomes, and they'd pinched her… and taken off with her chocolate biscuits.

Talia sighed, but said no more on the matter. She allowed her mother to perform the spells needed to dry her and clean her, and it made her love magic even more. She wouldn't need to shower or change her clothes!

After performing the spells on her and her bag, Isabella smiled in satisfaction and turned to look at the house known as the Burrow. She spotted two red haired men jousting with picnic tables on the front lawn, their wands up in the air controlling the tables, laughing all the while. The two were very tall, and their red hair said that they were brothers—more specifically, Weasleys (the whole family had red hair!). One of the two had his red hair pulled back in a ponytail, wore dragon-hide boots, and dangling from his ear was a fang. The other had a rugged look about him, with short red hair, and a very muscular build that suggested he worked outdoors. Scars littered the exposed skin of his arms, scars that looked like they could have come from burns.

_How strange…_

"Um, hello," Isabella called to them, getting their attention.

The two stopped playing their game upon hearing a new voice, setting the tables down with a simple downward stroke of their wands, and stared at Isabella as she approached with Talia at her side.

They did not put away their wands.

"Who are you?" the one with the ponytail asked, looking at Isabella from head to toe, a suspicious look in his blue eyes.

"Ron said that he had a brother in Romania who worked with dragons," Talia was quick to say before Isabella had even gotten a chance to say their names. "Are you the one who works with them?"

The other Weasley cleared his throat and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, silently telling his brother to pocket his wand as he had done so moments earlier. The two women before them were no threat; that much he could see.

"I'm Bill, and this is Charlie," the one with the ponytail said, the guarded look leaving his eyes at the mention of his youngest brother.

"I'm the one who works with dragons," said Charlie with a grin as he looked down at Talia. "You like dragons?"

"Ooh, I love them! They're my second favorite animal," Talia informed him with an easy grin. "Unicorns are my first!"

"Right," said Charlie with an amused chuckle. He then turned to look at Isabella, staring at her for a long, awkward moment (awkward for Isabella), before he said with a smirk, "and you must be her sister."

_Is he saying I look old_, Isabella couldn't help but to think, but upon noticing the look that Charlie was giving her, it made her cheeks feel hot.

He was looking at her like Remus would.

"I'm her _mother_," Isabella said after a moment. "Isabella Prince."

"My mistake."

_No it's not_, Isabella thought nastily, but nevertheless she replied with, "It's alright—I'm flattered, really."

"My pleasure, then," said Charlie with a grin.

_Oh, by the gods…_

"So," said Bill, trying to keep a straight face at his brother's antics, "you must be the Talia and Isabella we've been hearing so much about. Mum said that you'd be coming today."

In that moment, Molly Weasley decided to step out into the yard, leaving the front door of her home open. A strange scent floated out the opened door, overpowering the smells of meats and spices, making Talia stare at the entrance into the Weasley's home with narrowed eyes. She took in a deep breath, the smell hitting her stronger this time. Something immediately clicked in her brain, telling her what that strange scent was. She hadn't smelled it in a while, at least not since being in Hogwarts.

"DADDY!" Talia screamed joyously, taking off in a run. Before entering the house however, she stopped and turned back to yell at her mother, "BEST SURPRISE EVER!"

"You've got one more surprise left!" Isabella yelled back, laughing.

"What?!"

"We're going to the Quidditch World Cup!"

Talia gasped, before running back to her mother and wrapping her arms around Isabella's middle.

"You're the best!" said the little Slytherin.

"You should be thanking Ron," Isabella told her, "He's the one who invited us—and Mr. Weasley as well, since he got the tickets."

"Will do," Talia beamed before running back to the house, darting past Molly Weasley with a rushed, "Hello!"

"Hello to you too!" Molly yelled into the house, a small smile on her lips as she approached Isabella. "Quite the handful you've got there."

"You've no idea," said Isabella with a chuckle, hugging the plump, red-haired woman. "It's so good to see you again."

"It's been too long," said Molly with a sad little smile.

The last time the two women had seen each other had been during the First Wizarding War. A group called the Order of the Phoenix had been created to fight against Voldemort and his men, and Remus being Remus, had forbid Isabella from joining. He'd said it be too dangerous, and to appease him, Isabella had agreed. It was how she came to know Molly Weasley. Molly's husband, Arthur, had told his wife the same exact thing, and so the two women had spent various days at random safe houses, caring for the children of those who were off fighting.

"C'mon, let's get inside," said Molly suddenly. "I've got things baking in the oven, and you look like you could use a snack…"

Isabella nodded and the two started walking towards the house, Bill and Charlie following behind them, and it was then that Isabella saw Remus, leaning casually against the doorframe, holding onto Talia's hand. Her heart nearly stopped and she felt faint, and all she wanted to do was to run up to him and smother him with kisses. She hadn't seen him since Hogwarts, since they'd kissed and told each other that they loved one another. They had kept in touch of course, writing letters and the occasional call through the Floo, and just the other day (August 13th) he'd sent her a birthday gift consisting of a card and a modestly knitted scarf… but they were taking things slow because they did not want to make any mistakes.

They had also yet to tell Talia that there was something more between them than just friendship, and they were curious and hesitant about finding out their daughter's reaction.

* * *

**AN: **Be sure to check out this story's spin-off: _Interlude: Isle of Corvus.  
_The spin-off will detail the relationship of Seraphina and Sirius... a relationship which will be brushed lightly in this story.


	2. Remus' Mark

Up the steps from the garden and through the back door, was the Weasley's kitchen. It was a small room, and rather cramped, containing all the amenities that belonged in a normal kitchen setting along with other things that didn't, like the fireplace which's mantel was piled high with cookbooks. Above the sink was a window that overlooked the house's front, and inside the backdoor was a perch for the family's owl, Errol.

Isabella was sitting at the kitchen table, which sat eight people, and on either side of her sat a Weasley—the Twins, to be exact. They'd given her a small, round ball of toffee covered in golden foil, and were doing everything in their power to get her to eat it.

The candies name, however, made Isabella hesitate.

"A _Ton-Tongue Toffee?_" Isabella repeated unsurely, staring at the golden foiled toffee that she held between her index finger and thumb.

"You'll love it," Fred smirked from her left.

"It'll give your taste buds a pleasant tickle," George smirked from her right.

"You'll be begging for more!" the Twins exclaimed together, doing anything in their power to sell their product.

Isabella knew something was up the second the boys has sat down on either side of her, and she could see the two giving James and Sirius a run for their money. With that thought in mind, she stared at the little sweet in her hand with skeptic eyes. What could the candy really do? Would it change her hair color, give her zits, make her two front teeth large? It did something, of that she was sure, but it wouldn't be anything drastic like exploding in her mouth… right?

_Here goes nothing…_

Just as Isabella was about to unwrap the toffee, Molly entered the kitchen through the backdoor with Remus trailing along behind her. Upon seeing their mother, the Twins, without any sort of explanation whatsoever, ran out of the kitchen, leaving Isabella the only one sitting at the table.

"Well, that was odd," she mumbled as she looked at the empty chairs on either side of her.

"What was odd, dear?" Molly asked curiously, setting down on the kitchen table the basket she was carrying, Remus doing the same with the burlap sack in his arms.

"Nothing," Isabella said with a shrug, waving a hand dismissively. "So, how did the egg and potato picking go?"

"You wouldn't need to ask if you'd helped," retorted Remus with an annoyed look. His shirt was covered in dirt and his back hurt form being bent at the waist for over thirty minutes, picking potatoes from the back garden, but a small smile was plastered on his face despite it all—Isabella seemed to do that to him, make him smile more. "You've gotten lazy, my dear."

"I **did** do something, mind you," Isabella replied indignantly, and then pointed to the bowl of pealed garlic's on the countertop. "I pealed and washed the garlic… without magic!"

Remus chuckled. Isabella looked so pleased with herself for doing something by hand. Molly preferred to cook without wands, and he was sure that Isabella would be complaining later about how her fingertips smelled of garlic.

"And I thank you for that," Molly said, giving Isabella a smile… until she saw the golden little ball in the younger woman's hand.

"FRED AND GEORGE!" Molly screamed suddenly, startling Remus and Isabella.

Isabella looked over to Remus with a questioning glance, and it was then that Remus noticed what Molly had seen. He let out a small chuckle and walked around the table to stand at Isabella's side, grabbing her hand gently and picking the toffee from her palm.

"You do not want to eat this," he said simply, giving her hand a brief squeeze before letting go. Looking at Molly and holding the toffee up, he said, "I believe this belongs to you."

"Those boys are going to be the death of me," Molly grumbled as she walked around the table and took the proffered sweet, stuffing it in the pocket of her apron and going about the room, gathering up all the things she'd need to make dinner.

All the while, she was muttering underneath her breath about all the things the Twins had done in the past, and what their punishment was going to be.

Just then, Arthur stepped into the kitchen, his two oldest sons behind him.

"What's gotten into mum?" asked Bill as he watched his mother, who was red faced and slamming cabinets.

"Ton-Tongue Toffee," Remus said simply.

Arthur let out a groan as he looked at his wife. "I told those boys to behave, but even in the presence of company they could care less."

To that, Charlie began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" asked Isabella, genuinely confused. Everyone appeared to know what was going on, except for her.

Charlie smiled and took the empty seat beside her, informing her why his mother was so upset. Apparently, the toffee, once eaten, would give you an elongated tongue, and Isabella knew in that moment that the Twins were Sirius and James' counterparts.

* * *

The day passed pleasantly after the toffee incident. Isabella and Talia were introduced to the two remaining Weasley's, Percy and Ginevra (Ginny she preferred to be called). It turned out that Ginny was only a year older than Talia, and once finding this out the two stuck together like glue, sharing gossip and talking about the upcoming term.

After lunch Hermione had arrived, and upon seeing her, Talia and Ginny had taken her down the hall to Ginny's bedroom, where the three spent the remainder of the day. While in Ginny's bedroom, Talia explained her situation to Ginny and Hermione, making them swear that they would not tell a soul—which they promised with a pinky swear. Talia had even given Hermione permission to inform Harry and Ron, after asking her mother, of course. Her parentage was a touchy subject, but both Isabella and Remus trusted the Weasleys wholeheartedly.

Harry had arrived just before dinner was served, and Isabella found it amusing how Molly had nearly forced the boy to have a second helping of the feast-worthy dinner laid out on the table. Dinner had been held out in the garden, since the table inside the kitchen could not accommodate the amount of people present, and it had been a very humorous affair, filled with jokes and stories, and after Harry had asked Isabella and Remus, tales of his mother and father, which left a small smile on the boy's face.

Now late into the evening, the children had all been tucked into bed, and the adults (with the exception of Percy, who had gone to bed early) all lounged about in the sitting room. The sitting room was shabby but cozy, lit with a warm glow produced by various oil lamps. There was a sagging armchair that was occupied by Arthur, Molly sitting on one of the armchair's arms, and Remus, Isabella, and Charlie were using up a comfortable couch. Bill was seated on a chair that he had brought in from the kitchen, and he was currently leading the conversation, talking about his job in the Egyptian division of Gringotts Bank.

All the while, everyone was sipping on wine that Molly had brought out from the kitchen. Isabella wasn't much of a drinker, but she did enjoy the occasional cup of wine, and once hearing that the wine was elf-made, she just _had_ to have a cup. It was unique, and delicious, and smoothly went down her throat, warming her insides pleasantly. It was sweet and the taste of grapes wasn't overbearing, and Isabella was now on her fifth cup.

She had obviously over done it, but she was amongst friends and she had no one to impress, not even Remus, and that was the beauty of it. He loved her, faults and all.

Isabella sat quietly, between Remus and Charlie, listening to Bill talk, sipping her wine and enjoying the conversation. It was odd to be around company that she didn't have to dress up for, who knew her as a Prince and not a Snape. It was also heartwarming how they accepted Talia into their brood without prejudice or a second glance. Charlie in particular had taken a shine to Talia—they both were head over heels in love with dragons!

"You know," Isabella spoke up during a pause in the conversation, saying randomly, "I have the feeling that Percy is hiding something. Am I right, or am I just going off my rocker? You all heard him, right?"

Percy worked for the Ministry. During dinner, he'd kept hinting that something big was going to happen at Hogwarts this coming school year, and it had left Isabella curious. She would have asked Severus about this once returning home, but she and he were most definitely not on speaking terms.

Charlie chuckled deeply at Isabella's question, a genuine laugh that rumbled in his chest. He looked at Isabella and smiled, saying, "It's partly why I'm here."

"Really?" asked Isabella with interest.

Maybe, if she hadn't of been on her fifth cup of wine, she would have figured it out, but for the life of her, she was drawing a blank. The wine had coated her mind with a hazy fog that did not cloud her judgement, but made it impossible to solve puzzles, and this was definitely a puzzle she wanted to solve.

"Why don't you just tell me," she said after a moment, smiling up at Charlie, "My lips are _sssss_ealed!"

Oh no, she was beginning to slur.

"No no, c'mon, you can figure it out," Charlie said with a teasing smile. "I'll let you try one more time before I give you a hint."

From the other side of Isabella, Remus watched Charlie with slightly narrowed eyes. He had noticed that the redhead had been glued to Isabella's side for a better part of the afternoon, and he could practically smell the lust and want coming off him.

Charlie was attracted to Isabella, and Remus did not like that. Did the boy have no decency? Isabella was more than 10 years his senior!

The wolf in Remus was beginning to take over, and Charlie was now marked as a potential threat in his mind. Isabella was _his_ mate, and no one else's.

What broke the camel's back was the hand that Charlie casually placed on Isabella's knee.

The glass in Remus' hand spontaneously shattered, wine and small shards of glass falling onto his chest and lap. The sudden noise had startled Isabella, making her jump slightly, and Charlie saw this as an opportunity to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

If Remus didn't attack him, it was because Molly now stood before him, her wand out and ready to work a cleaning spell.

"What happened," Molly asked as she pointed her wand at Remus, making the wine and glass disappear in an instant. "Are you alright, Remus?"

"I'm fine, Molly…"

Isabella was surprised, and a bit concerned. Why had Remus suddenly crushed the glass in his hand? She would have pondered it more and even helped him with the cut on his hand that Molly was tending to, but she felt warm all of a sudden, and it had nothing to do with the wine. An arm was wrapped around her, and Charlie was suddenly sitting too close.

It was a strange feeling having someone who wasn't Remus hold her.

Charlie's arm around her shoulders didn't feel right.

"Isabella," she heard Remus call her, his voice stern as if he were reprimanding a student, "mind taking a walk with me? I think I've had enough wine for tonight… and it looks like you could use from fresh air."

Isabella immediately sobered up.

* * *

Walking alongside Remus would have normally been lovely; Isabella would hold his hand and rest her head on his shoulder and they'd steal the occasional kiss. However, right now he was keeping his distance, hands in his pockets, shoulders tense.

_I drank too much_, Isabella thought, biting her lip_; I knew I should have stopped after that second cup. Remus always told me I get careless when I drink!_

As if sensing Isabella's thoughts, Remus turned his head slightly to the side, looking down at her from the corner of his eye. Despite the darkness, he could see perfectly well, one of the benefits of being days away from another full moon, he supposed, and he could see that Isabella's cheeks were flushed, her arms were crossed across her chest, and she was looking down almost dejectedly. A twinge of guilt suddenly stabbed him in the chest, seeing her like that, and so he took in a deep breath and extended an arm, wrapping it around her shoulders and pulling her up to his side.

Isabella stiffened at the initial contact, but breathing in his musky scent calmed her, and she relaxed in his embrace, even going as far as to uncross her arms and wrap them around him. Her head rested on his shoulder and the two walked on in silence, deciding to stop by the trees in the back garden of the Weasley's property.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, looking up at him through the darkness. His face was partially illuminated by the moon's light, but she could still see his eyes, which were flecked heavily with amber. "I was stupid. I should have stopped after—"

Remus silenced her with his lips, and guided her backwards until her back hit the trunk of a tree. He tasted like wine, mint, and chocolate, and Isabella couldn't bite back the moan that vibrated deep in her throat. She wrapped her arms around his neck and weaved her fingers through his hair, and Remus' hands trailed down the sides of her body, settling on her hips. He pressed her against him, needing to feel the contours of her body flush against his, needing to reassure himself that she was his and his alone.

His mouth suddenly left her lips and attached to her throat, and Isabella couldn't stop the loud moan that left her lips, nor the breathy whispered, "Remus…"

Remus suddenly lifted Isabella, his hands supporting her rear, and Isabella quickly wrapped her legs around his waist. Her body was hot and she could feel him, all of him, pressing against her, and when he bit down hungrily on the crook of her collarbone she nearly screamed.

"Remus," Isabella panted, pulling at his hair to get him to look at her.

"I was jealous," he said quickly, resting his forehead against hers, breathing heavily.

"Well," Isabella said softly, "you're an idiot. I've got your mark behind my neck, not his."

Remus hugged her tightly, moving his head and burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent.

"Can I see it?" he asked after a moment, bringing his head back and staring down at her. "The mark?"

Isabella nodded, and after a few needy kisses, Remus set her down and nearly groaned as he felt her body slide against his. She turned for him then, gathering her hair up and tilting her head down to allow him a better view, and after taking out his wand and muttering "_lumos_", Remus saw the mark that he'd left on the back of Isabella's neck. He recognized his teeth marks, and brought up a hand to trace the silvery circle on Isabella's skin.

Isabella immediately gasped and flinched.

"What did I do?" Remus asked quickly, retracting his hand as if he'd just touched fire.

"It's alright," Isabella assured him, "It's just… it always gets sensitive near the full moon. It feels good though. You didn't hurt me."

Remus nodded, and then a mischievous smile flittered across his lips. Before Isabella could protest he leaned down and covered the mark with his mouth, and Isabella moaned.

"Oh, by the Gods…"

He quickly extinguished his wand and pocketed it, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his hands on her stomach, pushing her backwards towards him.

All the while, his lips never left her skin.

"You're mine," Remus said softly as he kissed his mark.

"And you're mine," Isabella replied shakily, closing her eyes tightly and sucking in a sharp breath as she felt the tip of his tongue trace her scar.

Right before Remus bit into his mark, he whispered, "I love you," and Isabella's vision then burst into stars. Her whole body shook and she cried out, her hands leaving her hair and going back, searching for Remus' head to hold.

"Oh Gods, oh Gods," she moaned repeatedly as Remus sunk his teeth deeper into her flesh. Her body felt like it was on fire, and a tightly wound ball was now settled right bellow her naval, ready to burst. She felt his hands on her stomach begin to wander down, and right as they settled underneath her belly button she stilled them, knowing what he silently wanted. "Not… not here. I don't want… it… like this."

Remus backed away from her neck and sighed, resting his forehead on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I got carried away."

"It's fine," Isabella said softly, caressing his hands, which were now back on her stomach. "I want it too—Merlin, you cannot even imagine how badly I want it, but I don't want it here; not like this.

"You were always a romantic," Remus said teasingly.

"I never heard you complaining," bit back Isabella, laughing softly.

They stayed like that for a moment, Remus hugging her from behind, and Isabella playing with his fingers. The night air smelled of honeysuckle and grass, and Isabella couldn't have felt anymore in love then in that moment. She was going to spend the rest of her life with this man; she knew it right in that moment that there was no one else for her except for him, her Remus.

This was the start of something beautiful.


	3. Schoolboy Crush

"Wake up you little snake!"

"C'mon Granger, up an' at 'em!"

"Can't forget Gin-Gin too!"

Talia groaned. It was too early for this, but no one expected any less from Fred and George. The Twins were shaking her, and with a loud growl, she waved a hand in the air and managed to smack one of them in the face. One of the Twins snickered at his brother's misfortune, but then they were back to shaking Talia, now more vigorously than before, as a form of payback for being slapped.

Soon the shaking stopped and Talia smiled a little, figuring that the Twins had simply given up on waking her up. She snuggled into her pillow, settling in for a few more hours of sleep, but then she felt herself being turned over in the little camping bed she'd been provided with, and the next thing she knew she was on the floor, on her stomach.

The Twins had flipped Talia out of bed.

"Will you two cut it out?" Hermione exclaimed, and after a bit of struggling, the Twins were pushed outside the bedroom door, leaving the girls alone.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asked worriedly, helping Talia stand up.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Talia mumbled, rubbing her forehead. She looked over at Hermione who was rubbing her shoulder, and asked, "They got you too?"

"Don't even get me started," grumbled Hermione. "It's too early for this."

"I know; what time is it anyway?" asked Talia as walked over towards Hermione, seating herself on the empty space beside the bushy haired girl.

"Too early, that's what time it is," answered Ron, entering the room and taking a seat on his sister's bed. "Mum sent me to see if you girls were ready. I see that Fred and George beat me to it."

"Obviously," mumbled the girls sarcastically.

Ron said nothing. He just fell backwards on the bed, curling up in the sheets and letting out a loud yawn.

Ginny's bedroom was very bright, and had character. There were posters on the walls of a band called the _Weird Sisters,_ and of the all-witch Quidditch team_, the Holyhead Harpies_. She had a desk that sat underneath the only window in the room, which overlooked an orchard behind the house, and the only problem that Talia could find with the room was its size. It was small, and with three extra beds crammed into the room there was hardly any legroom.

Speaking of which, Talia looked over towards the camping bed her mother had been given for the night, and saw that it was empty.

"Where's my mum?" Talia asked Ron, throwing a shoe at his leg to get his attention.

"Kitchen," Ron mumbled sleepily. "Now stop throwing things at me."

"Well then get out," Ginny told him, "It isn't proper for you to be in here!"

Ron yawned, and groaned, and after a push from his sister, sat up and rubbed his eyes. "It's too bloody early," he mumbled as he lazily walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I hope the bathroom isn't busy," Talia mumbled as she rummaged through her backpack for a change of clothes, and a hairbrush.

"The bathroom is _always_ busy in this house," Ginny mumbled, walking to her dresser and taking out a pair of jeans, and a shirt.

Sighing, Talia quickly got out a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt, along with her hairbrush. She began with her hair, brushing it down and untangling it, then braiding it. She finished with two braided plaits going down her shoulders, and feeling satisfied with her hair she grabbed her clothes and shoes and made her way out of the room.

Talia knew the bathroom was on the third floor, and because Ginny's bedroom was on the first floor, she began to climb the set of stairs situated in the sitting room. When she reached the third floor, Charlie had just stepped out of a room that smelled like water and soap, his hair damp, and dressed in black pants and a red shirt. Talia quickly smiled up at him as she approached him; her new best friend, she had dubbed him the day before.

"Hello Charlie. That's the bathroom, right?" Talia asked, pointing to room Charlie had just stepped out of.

"It is, yes," he smiled, and added teasingly, "and you better hurry before the water runs out."

With that being said, Talia darted into the bathroom, leaving Charlie to laugh quietly to himself as he made his way downstairs.

* * *

Isabella sat at the kitchen table, her hair in a messy bun and wearing (much to everyone's surprise), a pair of tight jeans and a white shirt. Her feet were clad in black, lace up boots, and the outfit was paired with a dark green leather jacket, which she currently had hanging off the back of her chair. Today, she did not feel up for wearing her usual robes.

She sipped on a cup of tea that she'd gotten from Molly, and let her eyes skim the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ lying before her on the table, looking for any news related to Sirius—thankfully, she found nothing.

She had gotten a letter from him a couple of days ago, wishing her a happy birthday, asking for news on the home front, and filling her in on his days on the little _Isle of Corvus_.

Apparently, he was quite taken with her cousin Seraphina, and had intentions of "wooing her". He had asked for advice, like if Seraphina liked flowers or preferred chocolates, and had even gone as far as to say that he'd be part of the family soon enough.

Weirdly enough, Isabella didn't doubt that. Seraphina was a very lively girl with a colorful vocabulary, and Isabella could see her cousin easily with Sirius hanging off her arm.

That woman would give Sirius hell. Seraphina took no prisoners, but she was exactly the kind of girl Sirius needed.

"Good morning."

Isabella stiffened and looked up slowly, spotting Charlie walking into the kitchen with a large smile on his face. She cursed the heavens for the empty seats on either side of her, Charlie quickly taking up the seat on her right, as she'd predicted.

"Good morning," Isabella replied curtly, giving Charlie the ghost of a smile, and returning her eyes to the _Daily Prophet_, pretending to read the article on the Quidditch World Cup.

Molly, who was busy at the stove preparing a quick breakfast, smiled softly. She knew her son well, and she was thrilled that he'd finally taken an interest in someone, but sadly he'd taken an interest in a woman that was certainly already spoken for.

Isabella and Remus were good at keeping their relationship away from the spotlight, but they could not fool Molly. She had seen the quick kiss Isabella had given Remus right before he had disapparated home.

_Oh, young love,_ Molly thought with a gentle shake of the head, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips.

* * *

Because of the size of their group, two portkeys had been given to the Weasleys. The kids and Arthur were to travel with the first portkey, while the second portkey would take Isabella, Percy, Bill, and Charlie. Sadly, the second portkey was due to activate an hour after the first one took its group, which meant that Isabella was stuck with Charlie. He was interesting to talk too (when wine wasn't involved), and Talia simply loved him because he worked with dragons, but his obvious flirtatious comments made Isabella uncomfortable, and she did not have the heart to tell him to stop.

She'd never been good at these type of things.

Absentmindedly, Isabella reached up a hand and began to rub her neck, her fingers brushing against the tender mark that Remus had left the night before. It made a faint smile grace her lips as she thought back on the intimate moment they'd shared.

Chuckling, she walked through the backdoor and out to the garden, and a small family of garden gnomes came scurrying out of the overgrown grass, prancing around her feet, giggling as they tried to pinch her ankles.

_Aha, I came prepared_, Isabella thought with a smug smile, staring down at the gnomes who had realized that her boots would not allow them to touch her ankles.

They resorted to trying to unlace her boots instead.

The backdoor soon opened, and for a moment, Isabella thought it was Charlie, but she sighed in relief when Bill came to stand beside her. He had a backpack strapped to his back, and was currently in the process of tying back his freshly washed hair in a ponytail.

"Hey there," he greeted, and then looked down at Isabella's feet to see the garden gnomes trying to climb her boots. "They seem to like you."

"Sadly," Isabella chuckled ruefully. "They were the bane of my existence when I was little. My mum thought it cruel to let our gardeners dispose of them, so they were always around the manor grounds… stealing my food."

Bill chuckled softly, and then looked back into the house, saying, "Percy thinks we should start heading out soon, so you might want to get your things ready."

"Time flies when you're having fun," Isabella mused, before shaking the gnomes off her boots, and walking into the house with Bill.

She quickly walked through the kitchen and into the sitting room, taking the hall on the left that would lead her to Ginny's room, where her bag was. She needed to change out of her jeans, boots, and shirt and leather jacket. She'd completely forgotten that the Malfoys were going to be present, and she had to keep up appearances. It was enough showing up with the Weasleys—they would talk about that, surely, and Isabella wanted to give them one less thing to talk about, despite being close friends.

Bill on the other hand, stayed in the kitchen, and as Charlie stepped into the room, he gave his younger brother a small, knowing grin.

"She in Ginny's room?" asked Charlie, trying to act casual.

Bill rolled his eyes and walked over to his brother, punching him in the arm.

"Give it a rest, will you?" Bill laughed, shaking his head, "She's got a kid who's practically the same age as Ginny—do the math!"

"So?" Charlie smiled. "Talia and I get along swimmingly, and I've never really been fond of women my age. It takes a mature woman to whip this Weasley into shape."

"And she's that woman?" asked Bill incredulously, crossing his arms.

"Maybe," grinned Charlie.

Bill rolled his eyes.

"Talia is Remus' kid," he pointed out, "Isabella and Remus have history, and a kid is a strong bond between the two. Besides, don't they say that werewolves mate for life?"

"Isabella isn't a werewolf, so that doesn't apply to her," said Charlie. "She and Remus aren't married. Her marriage with Snape is out of convenience, so technically, she's a single woman, and I'm confident that I've got a good chance. Mum did always say that we should try before we give up."

"Well, I think that you've already tried enough, so it's now time to give up."

With that, the two brothers shared a laugh, but then Percy walked into the room with his own backpack over his shoulder, giving them an unbelieving look.

"You two should be already heading out," he berated his older brothers, giving them one final look before heading out the backdoor.

"Merlin's pants, I wonder how mum ever produced that one," Bill mumbled. "I mean, he's nothing like—"

Isabella stepped into the kitchen right then. She was now dressed in a black skirt that wrapped around her hips snuggly, and a blue blouse with a V-neckline that showed off her neck. Her hair had been brushed and rested on her left shoulder, and she'd put on a bit of makeup, accentuating her bright golden eyes.

She looked ready to go, however, she was barefoot; in her hands she held two pairs of shoes—a pair of heels, and a pair of flat shoes.

"I feel stupid for asking," she said honestly, keeping her eyes on Bill and trying to ignore the look Charlie was giving her. "I'm leaning more towards the flat shoes, but the heels are something I'm used to."

Isabella did honestly feel stupid for asking two men what she should wear on her feet. She would have asked Molly, but Molly had gone down to the village market.

Isabella had never been to any kind of event such as the Quidditch World Cup, and she did not know what to expect. The Malfoys would make an appearance, so did that mean that it would be a high-class event where she'd need to dress up just in case she ran into anyone that knew her as Isabella Snape?

"It's a Quidditch match," said Charlie with a lecherous smirk, looking down at Isabella's black-painted toes, "go with the flats."

Isabella sighed. She should have just stayed with her boots; Malfoys be damned.

* * *

**AN: **_Chapter 2: Sandy Surprise_, of the Sirius Black spin-off, goes along with this chapter.


	4. Deflated Ego

As they arrived in a forest that was a ways away from a campsite near the larger-than-life Quidditch pitch, Charlie was quick to latch himself onto Isabella, taking her hand and keeping her close. His excuse was to prevent her from being separated, and with a sigh, Isabella let him.

She was 100% done. She'd let him flirt, she'd let him grab her hand and lead her through the tightly packed campsite, but if he tried to "make a move," she'd punch him in the face. Yes, she had to admit that he was remarkably handsome, but he was several years younger than she was, and her heart was already in the hands of another.

Instead of focusing on the hand holding hers, Isabella let her eyes take in her surroundings. The smells, the different kinds of people, the little house-elves riding on the backs of llamas—it was all so amazing, really. The campsite was packed with the tents of people who would be leaving in the morning, tents Isabella knew from experience were far larger on the inside then they appeared on the outside. Some tents were simpler in appearance and size, while others were larger, resembling a castle in every meaning of the word.

Percy had appointed himself as the unofficial leader of their group, and was leading the group to a tan colored tent that looked like it could house no more than three people. Arthur and Harry were loitering outside the tent, talking, when Percy called out to them. They had been discussing the differences between camping with muggle equipment as opposed to camping with wizarding equipment, but then the conversation was cut short upon the arrival of the remaining Weasleys, and Isabella.

Arthur smiled upon seeing his children, and Isabella, and motioned for everyone to go inside, moving aside one of the flaps of the tent that served as a door.

The inside of the tent was similar to that of a three-bedroom apartment, fully furnished, and even with a working bathroom, and kitchen. The three bedrooms would be divided amongst the tent's occupants, but the consensus was to have all the females share a room, and leave the other two rooms for the males to sort between one another.

* * *

Isabella had decided to wander the grounds a bit. The match wouldn't start until later that night, so she had a bit of time to explore. She was curious about all the little stands vendors had set up, and what they offered, and of course, Charlie had offered to be her escort. Thankfully, Bill had decided to tag along, giving her an apologetic smile. It appeared that the eldest Weasley knew about his brother's infatuation with Isabella, and was trying to save her from any awkward moments that might have come up should she and Charlie walk alone—Isabella did not even know where to begin to thank him.

"Hey, they sell Omnioculars here," said Charlie, stopping in front of a little stand that belonged to an old witch with black and white speckled hair.

"Oh, I've heard of these," Isabella mused, looking down at the table. It contained a row of Omnioculars, all in different sizes. "My father says that they work like muggle binoculars, but they slow down and replay what you're seeing. He even says that sometimes, depending on what model you have, it'll tell you what moves some of the Quidditch players are making."

"Your father's into Quidditch?" asked Bill, interested.

"Yes; he loves it with a passion," Isabella said with a smile. "I remember when I was younger, my mother would always tell me how she thought that he'd graduate from Hogwarts and go off to play professional Quidditch—but no, he became an auror instead."

"What a turn of events, "said Charlie with a chuckle.

"Tell me about it," said Isabella.

The three moved past the stand and down the row of vendors, making their way to a small gathering of picnic tables. There were witches and wizards pulling things out of cauldrons, selling delicious confections to anyone who was willing to pay. A woman was even selling muggle cookbooks, and Isabella bought one, shrinking it and tossing it into her shoulder bag.

"This is great," she mused as she munched on a bag of chips.

"Mum tried making these by hand once," said Charlie as he held up a hotdog.

"How did that work out?"

"Bad," both Bill and Charlie cringed, making Isabella laugh.

* * *

Soon, a gong, loud and eerie, came from the direction of the forest—the Quidditch match was about to begin shortly, so the group decided to make their way back to the tent.

"That bloke, Viktor Krum—he seems like a good player," mused Isabella, "though personally I wouldn't know. I've never been much into sports."

"What are you into, Isabella?" asked Charlie curiously.

"I was training to be a healer during the First War, but then I got pregnant with Talia and decided to focus on her, so I didn't really finish my schooling. It's something I'd like to get into again, now that she's in school and I don't have to be watching her all the time," Isabella said with a smile. "However, I'd like to work with potions. It is a subtle science—an exact art. I always found there to be a very odd beauty to a softly simmering cauldron. The delicate power of a potion that can rock your whole world, bewitching the body and ensnaring the mind, is also something I've thought fascinating."

Bill looked at Isabella, impressed. She was very passionate about potions.

Charlie however, smiled teasingly and said, "You're definitely related to Snape."

"That hasn't stopped you from flirting incessantly," said Isabella with a shrug, holding her head high.

Bill had to place the back of his hand on his mouth to stifle a laugh. His brother's face had turned completely red, and he stared after Isabella with wide, surprised eyes.

Silence ensued. _Maybe now Charlie will stop making advances_, thought Isabella.

"So," she said casually, trying to fight off the smirk that was threatening to take over her lips, "where are the seats we're supposed to be sitting on?"

"We're in the highest box, from what I remember dad telling us," Charlie informed Isabella, keeping his eyes on his shoes, obviously embarrassed.

_From holding my hand to looking at your shoes_, thought Isabella, amused. She did her best to keep her laughter to herself, but a giggle still left her lips, and it was enough to make Charlie look at her questioningly, his cheeks flushed.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Isabella said with an impish grin, crossing her arms, "I was just remembering something _Remus_ told me the other night. That man can make me laugh like no other."

"Oh… right."


	5. Save Them

**Ireland—170**

**Bulgaria—160**

The Twins were ecstatic, Ron was not.

Laughing and talking about the outcome of the match, Talia and Isabella made their way out of the stadium, following behind the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione. There was a lot of green going around since the Ireland Quidditch team had won, and the Bulgarian fans were wearing glares and keeping to themselves. It was an interesting game, to say the least. Isabella had no idea of what had been going on half of the time, only knowing when a team was in the lead whenever their fans screamed the loudest, but because it was the Quidditch World Cup, it was an experience that Isabella would not forget.

Thank goodness she hadn't placed any bets. The Twins were going around collecting their dues, and Ron begrudgingly gave them all of his allowance. He'd been so sure that the Bulgarians would win, and was now feeling himself a fool. So much for Viktor Krum…

As the group walked back to the tent, Talia was telling her mother how Hermione and Arthur had to keep Harry in his seat when the Veelas walked onto the pitch before the match had officially begun, dancing and attracting the attention of every male present with their charm and magically enhanced beauty. It made Isabella laugh, and she remembered the time when an Italian transfer student had gone to Hogwarts for about a year—the girl had Veela blood running through her veins. She'd gotten the attention of every male student she'd bat an eyelash at… even Remus, and a reluctant Severus. Oh, Isabella had been so mad whenever Remus would stop and stare at the other woman, but he always made up for it by giving Isabella kisses and telling her how much he loved her.

The funny thing about the whole ordeal had been, out of all the male students, Sirius—Sirius Black of all people (Hogwarts biggest flirt), hadn't even spared the Veela a glance. Oh, the irony had been laid down thick that year.

"I want you in bed after you take a good long shower and get some food in you, understood?" Isabella told her daughter as they entered the tent.

"What kind of food will I be given?" asked Talia skeptically, looking up at her mother.

Isabella rolled her eyes. She'd forgotten how picky her daughter was when it came to food.

"Well, that depends on what I find in the kitchen, or what I can buy from the vendors outside."

"If you end up buying food, there's this American stand that's selling chili cheese burgers and something they call curly fries. Can you get me some of those? With extra cheese?"

Isabella chuckled and ruffled her daughter's hair, nodding her head and shooing her off towards the small bathroom that was in the corner of the tent.

Isabella was about to turn and head for the kitchen when Hermione walked up to her, an uneasy expression on her face. Isabella offered her a smile as Hermione began to fidget with the sleeve of her jumper.

"Um, I was wondering, if it wasn't too much to ask for, "said Hermione slowly, "could you possibly make me something to eat too? I'm not overtly fond of what the vendors are selling…. And uh, I don't really trust Mr. Weasley's cooking."

"Oh, of course love," Isabella chuckled, but then she noticed that the uneasy expression was still on Hermione's face. Softly she asked, "Is something wrong?"

"It's all new to me," Hermione said quietly, "the wizarding world, that is. I know it's also new for Harry but he's got this reputation that… cushions it for him, I guess. He's adapted so well but I… sometimes I can't. My parents… I love them dearly, but I've tried to talk to them about it and they just don't understand—they look at me funny sometimes whenever I talk about magic and spells and things like that. It makes me feel different. I'm living in the muggle world and the wizarding world and I don't know where I'm going to end up. I don't know what I'm going to do, or who I'm going to be…"

Isabella stared down at Hermione for a moment, before placing a hand on her shoulder and leading her over to sit on a couch. Kneeling before the girl, Isabella said softly, "You're not the only one who feels… different. I'm going to use this as an example and I hope you tell no one, but Remus… he struggles with what he is. He thinks himself a monster, and he hides it well, but I know that he's not always alright. He grew up in this world and yet he feels as if he doesn't belong. But you know what I tell him?"

"What?" asked Hermione softly.

Isabella grinned, before saying, "I say, Remus, you can't change your past, but you can change your future."

"I… I can understand how that can work, for him that is, but—"

"Sweetheart," Isabella cooed, patting Hermione's knee. "You've got the best of both worlds. You can't change the fact that you're the first witch in your family, but you can decided on what you make of yourself. Go wherever you wish to go, be whatever you wish to be. If you want to be a muggle teacher, then be a muggle teacher. Just because you're a witch, that doesn't mean that you can't explore."

Hermione was silent for a moment, before sniffling and giving Isabella a small smile. "Thank you. I'm… sorry for unloading all of this one you. It's just… I couldn't really find anyone to share this with, and I just needed to get it all out."

"No problem, dear," Isabella smiled gently, reaching up a hand and brushing away a tear that had managed to slip past Hermione's eye. "Whenever you wish to talk about things your mum and dad might not understand, don't hesitate to send me an owl. I consider you my daughter, sweetheart. Merlin knows Talia would kill me if I didn't."

Hermione laughed, and nodded.

"Now," Isabella said, standing up, "I want you to get a shower once Talia gets out of the bathroom. I'll have something cooked up by then, but I can't guarantee that it'll be homemade. I have no idea what the kitchen has, but I hope it's enough to improvise."

"Thank you, again," Hermione told Isabella as she stood up off the couch.

"I'm always here if you need me," Isabella smiled.

Hermione nodded and turned to walk into the girl's bedroom, but she stopped and turned back to Isabella. Softly she said, "You're good for him—Professor Lupin, I mean. I can really see how much you care for him."

Isabella said nothing, simply pressed her index finger to her lips, and Hermione nodded, understanding Isabella's silent message.

* * *

After dinner, the boys (and Ginny) had stayed sitting at the kitchen table, discussing Quidditch. However, poor Ginny had fallen asleep about an hour into the conversation, and Arthur decided to call it a night, ordering his boys, and Harry, to go off to their respective rooms and to keep the noise level down. They were all still very excited about the match, (even Percy, who didn't really look the sort to be into sports) and wouldn't be going to sleep any time soon.

Gingerly, Arthur scooped Ginny into his arms and carried her off towards the largest bedroom in the tent—the master bedroom, which Isabella had claimed for the girls. There were three single beds in the room, the biggest bed (it being a king-size bed) being Isabella and Talia's to share for the night.

"You girls decent?" called Arthur from the other side of the closed door.

Isabella chuckled. "Come on in, Arthur."

Arthur stepped into the room and quickly studied the scene that greeted him. Isabella, Talia, and Hermione were sitting on the largest bed, with Hermione sitting in front of Isabella, getting her hair braided.

They were all wearing fluffy bathrobes over their pajamas.

"Now, the easiest way to tame this mane of yours is to brush it down at least twice a day and add in a small dollop of hot oil," Isabella was telling Hermione. "The oil will make your hair smooth and shinny, and a bit more manageable. But you can't go using just any oil—there's a special type of oil that you can get at any muggle beauty supply store, and it doesn't cost much. I remember me and Talia walked into one once when we went exploring Muggle London—some of the things those muggles sell is really brilliant."

"I never knew that," Hermione mused. "I'll have to tell my mum about it. There's a beauty salon a couple of blocks away from our house—"

"Did you hear that?" Talia asked to no one in general, a teasing lit to her voice, "Hermione, not knowing something? Someone call the _Daily Prophet_!"

Isabella rolled her eyes and looked away from Hermione's hair to see Arthur set Ginny down on one of the beds.

"She needs some sisters, Arthur."

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. "Molly's got her little girl now, so no more babies for the future. If Ginny had been a boy though… I think Molly would have gone on until we'd gotten a girl."

Isabella just chuckled, shaking her head. "I don't know how you do it. Some days Talia is too much to handle, I can't even begin to imagine what you and Molly—"

Yelling interrupted Isabella, and the yelling was followed by the sound of a crash. The festivities that had been going on outside of the tent began to change; the music stopped, cheering fans were replaced with screaming witches and wizards, and after a loud explosion, all hell seemed to break loose.

"Stay here," Arthur said quickly, taking out his wand from his pocket and leaving the room.

"What's going on?" Talia asked, looking at her mother with a slight tinge of fear in her eyes.

"I don't know, but you girls better get dressed, and wake Ginny."

Talia and Hermione quickly got dressed, shaking Ginny awake and telling her to gather her things. All the while Isabella quickly changed into the outfit she'd been wearing at the Burrow. If the situation called for a fight, she did not want to have billowing robes holding her back, so after putting on her jeans and white shirt, she stepped into her boots and laced them up with a flick of her wrist.

"Stay here until I come to get you," Isabella told the girls while she tied her hair up into a bun.

"Be careful," said Talia.

"Do you have your wand?" asked Hermione worriedly.

"What's going on?" asked a sleepy Ginny.

"I've got my wand—and I don't know what's going on, but nothing will happen to you," Isabella told Ginny, and then looked at Hermione and Talia, continuing with, "you're all safe. Just stay here and have your wands out, just in case."

The girls all nodded, and after grabbing her bag, Isabella walked out into the living room.

Arthur was pacing, running a hand worriedly through his red hair. He wore a pained expression on his face, and he was pale as if he'd seen something terrible.

"Arthur," called Isabella as she strapped her bag across her chest, "what's going on?"

"We're under attack," he said, apprehensive. "There are men walking outside, wearing black robes and hoods, destroying everything—they're shouting for muggle-borns, I think."

"Death Eaters," asked Isabella softly, her face pale.

Arthur nodded.

_Severus_, was the first thing Isabella could think of. Was he one of those hooded figures outside the tent? Surely he would have mentioned an attack at the World Cup, or maybe even hinted at something happening, unless…. Unless he didn't know. If he knew that something was happening he would have prevented Talia and she from joining the Weasleys.

Isabella was ignoring him, that much was true, but she had told him before leaving Spinner's End that she and Talia would be going to the Quidditch World Cup, so that he'd know where they were.

Could Lucius be part of this? _No_, Isabella thought, dismissing the thought quickly, _Lucius would never put Narcissa and Draco in this kind of danger. That man would die if anything happened to his family._

"The children," Isabella said softly, "we must get them out."

Arthur nodded, saying, "Harry is in danger more than anyone of us right now. It's him who they're really after."

"What do we do?"

"We head for the forest," said Arthur. "We'd be safest there. Get the girls while I get the others."

Isabella nodded, and then rushed back to the bedroom to gather her girls.

"We stay together, you hear me," Isabella told the three girls, leading them out into the living room.

Harry and Ron now stood with Arthur, and the Twins had their wands out, looking at the entrance to the tent with worried eyes. They were waiting for someone, and Isabella got her answer when Bill stumbled in, out of breath, with Percy and Charlie behind him.

"They're after half-breeds," Bill said, trying to catch his breath. "Anyone who isn't a pure-blood…"

"They've even brought in muggles from outside," said Percy, running a hand through his hair.

"They don't know about us, do they?" asked Talia as she grabbed onto Hermione's hand, "We're safe, right?"

Isabella didn't answer her. She simply placed a hand on Talia's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"Whatever happens," Isabella said quietly, looking at all the children gathered around her, "don't let your guard down. Shoot to kill, because a Death Eater will not hesitate to kill you, and neither should you—"

A loud boom came from above the tent, followed by even louder screams. The tent walls shook violently, and with an urgent nod, Arthur and Isabella rushed out of the tent.

Arthur and Bill led the group, while all the children walked behind them in a row, and bringing up the rear was Isabella.

Percy had gone off to help Ministry officials in controlling the riot, much to his father's distaste. However, Charlie went along with him, knowing that his father would feel better if his brother didn't go off alone. Although, before running off to catch up with his brother, Charlie had grabbed Isabella's hand, an apologetic look on his face that Isabella understood. With a nod from her, Charlie went off to aid his brother, and Isabella was left with following after the children, guarding them from behind.

_This is not good_, Isabella thought, taking her wand out of her bag. There were children screaming, house-elves frantically trying to aiding their masters, and witches and wizards running and throwing curses. The night sky had a reddish hue from all the fires that were started, and muggles were being tortured in front of everyone, suspended in the air by dark magic, their bodies contorting in pain.

It was Hell on earth.

Quickly the group weaved in and out of the crowd, wands at the ready in case anyone decided to stop them. They were doing well for a group of their large size, with only a few stops to avoid being hit with rouge spells, and slowly but surely, they were nearing the campsite's edge.

Nevertheless, someone was bound to be left behind, and that person was Isabella.

As she pushed past people, keeping her eyes firmly on the back of her daughter's head, she never noticed the flash of light that flew right at her from behind. It hit her back with enough force to knock her down, and a silent scream tore through her throat as a multitude of gashes ripped the skin of her back apart. Fire and spears, that's what it felt like; the fire licked at the wounds made by invisible spears, and paralyzed her for just a moment, but a moment was all it took to lose sight of Talia and the others.

_I am not going to die,_ Isabella thought weakly as she gripped her wand tightly, _I'm not going to die…_

* * *

They had all been separated.

The crowd was just too much, and they had been ripped apart. However, they had been told that the forest was safe, that if they were separated that they would all meet up where the portkey had left them, and so Talia was running, panting heavily as she weaved in and out of trees in the cover of night.

However, fear was distracting her, and so she never saw the uprooted tree root until it was much too late. She tripped over it, landing on the dirt floor hard. Groaning, she propped herself up and searched for her wand, and she found it right by her hand, but it lay broken in pieces.

"Oh no," Talia whispered, tears stinging her eyes as she quickly to her knees, hovering over the broken pieces of her wand. "No no…"

A loud, nearby explosion made her forget about her wand, and she quickly got up on her feet and ran. She did not know where she was running to anymore, but she could hear screams and curses cutting through the air, and it was enough to make her go anywhere as long as she wasn't caught.

Talia wanted to go home.

_I want my mum_, she thought as tears ran down her cheeks, _I want my—_

"_Petrificus totalus!_"

Talia felt her whole body freeze. Her arms quickly came down at her sides, stiff as boards, and her legs locked together, sending her down to the ground face first. She could not move her arms, or her legs, or even blink, or scream. Footsteps came from her left, and then a very familiar voice cursed.

"_Finite_."

Talia suddenly felt her body respond to her, and she took in a deep breath. Warm hands grabbed at her shoulders, hoisting her up so that she was standing on wobbly knees. Draco Malfoy stood before her, and Talia couldn't help but to rush into him, throwing her arms around his neck and holding onto him for dear life.

"Talia," said Draco softly, wrapping his arms around her waist, "I thought you were one of them… What are you doing here? Where's your mum?"

"I don't—"Talia was interrupted by the sound of a loud, thunderous explosion in the sky. The forest was quickly illuminated by a bright green light thereafter, and as Talia and Draco looked up into the opening in the canopy, they saw clouds swirl together; forming what looked like a skull with a snake slithering out of its grinning mouth.

It was Voldemort's mark—the Dark Mark.

"We need to go," Draco said in a rush, pulling Talia in a specific direction. "My mother isn't far off. She can take us home."

"But my mum," cried Talia, pulling on Draco's sleeve, "I don't know where she is! She could be hurt!"

"I'm sure she'll be fine, but we can't stay here," Draco urged. "We need to go!"

"But—"

"I can't lose you!" Draco yelled, his face looking haunted for just a moment. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, but before Talia could open her mouth, he was dragging her along behind him. "Come on—this way!"

* * *

Sitting on her front porch with her son, Adele looked up at the night sky, her sapphire eyes shimmering with unshed tears. It was early in the morning, around four or five in the morning to be precise, but neither she nor her son could go back to sleep after reading that disastrous letter that a certain Molly Weasley had sent them.

She could feel the fear and trepidation leave her son in waves, and it worried her to see him so pale and tense.

"I think I'm going to head inside, dear," she told her son softly as she rose from the porch swing they shared. "Are you going to—"

The crackling of air made Adele abruptly stop talking. Her son quickly stood up, and both she and he took their wands out of their pockets and looked out into the front yard of the secluded cottage they lived in.

There was a figure there that had not been there moments earlier, swaying dangerously from side to side. The figure took a step forward, but then collapsed with a pained gasp.

Adele took her son's hand, and both cautiously began to make their way towards the figure in their yard. As they drew near, they saw that the body belonged to a woman with long, black hair. She was unconscious.

"Oh my," Adele whispered, letting go of her son's hand and dropping to her knees. "She's hurt. Son, I need you to…"but her son wasn't listening. He stood frozen behind her, his hand gripping his wand tightly.

The woman on the ground smelled heavily of blood… and lavender.

* * *

**Fun fact:** The talk between Hermione and Isabella nearly didn't make the final cut.


	6. The Lupins

**AN: **You should read _Chapter 3: London Calling_, of the Sirius Black spin-off, _Isle of Corvus_.  
It goes hand in hand with this chapter.

* * *

"Remus, help me get her into the bath, please."

The quill in Remus' hand snapped, and he tipped over his inkpot accidentally. He cursed softly and took in a deep breath to calm himself, and then looked down at the ink sodden letter—he'd have to start over… again. He'd been so on edge lately, but with all things considered, he couldn't help it.

"Is it that time again?" he asked softly, turning to look at his mother with a stoic expression on his pale face.

Adele Lupin nodded.

"H-how is…," Remus started, but stopped himself. His voice cracked. He was doing better today, but there were still those few moments when his emotions would consume him, rendering him speechless and in tears.

His mother sighed, and she pushed off from the doorframe and stepped into Remus' bedroom. Her son was sitting at his desk by the window, his shoulders hunched and various balled up parchments littering the floor around him. He'd been trying to write a letter, but whenever he thought about the unconscious woman next door, he'd crumble.

Standing behind him, Adele placed her hands on her son's shoulders and gave them a tender squeeze.

"She's still the same," she said quietly, placing a kiss on his head. "The wounds on her back are healing painfully slow. The bandages have gotten so heavy with blood that they're beginning to slip off. If we don't figure out the counter-curse or if she doesn't wake up soon, I'm afraid that—"

"Don't," Remus snapped, balling up his hands into tight fists, and closing his eyes, "just don't. Don't even think it. She'll pull through, I can feel it."

"I'm sorry, my love," his mother said quietly, retracting her hands from his shoulders.

Remus nodded, accepting his mother's apology. Slowly he got up from his chair, pushing away from his desk and turning to look down at his mother. What was happening wasn't her fault, and so he gave her a small, apologetic smile, and then walked out of his room with her following behind him.

As he entered the bedroom next door, the smells that assaulted him nearly stopped him in his tracks. The scent of lavender was weak, and the stench of blood and antiseptic was thick. Isabella lay cold and still on the guest bed, looking small and frail. The sight nearly took his breath away, and it made tears sting his eyes. He thought he would get used to it by now, seeing her like that, it had been two days already, but he just couldn't get used to seeing her so broken, so vulnerable, so close to death. It made him feel guilty and angry because he had not been able to protect her, and fear smothered him because she hadn't woken up yet, and he was scared of losing her.

His wolf howled loudly in his mind, urging him to do something to save their mate, but Remus knew not what needed to be done. Isabella had been cursed, and without the counter-curse…

He swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat.

"I've already taken the bandages off, so now all that's left is to move her into the bathroom," Adele told her son gently, walking over to Isabella's bedside.

Isabella lay on her stomach, naked with the exception of her knickers. Her back was exposed and various deep gashes were scattered all along her back, several inches long, several inches wide… Adele had done the best she could do without any proper training in the medical field, and she'd done well so far, but it wasn't enough. This was not like treating the wounds of her son after a full moon—this was something else, something darker. She had never seen a curse like this, which could turn skin into bleeding ribbons. It scared her.

Remus stood beside his mother, looking down at the torn flesh of his lover's back. He didn't want to touch her, he didn't want to cause her any more pain, but his mother assured him that Isabella wouldn't feel a thing, and so he placed a hand on Isabella's hip, ready to turn her on her side, when a loud whimper startled him, making him draw his hand back.

"She's waking up," said Adele, astonished, a hopeful smile on her lips.

"Are you sure that the sedative isn't just wearing off?"

"No," said Adele with bright eyes, looking up at her son, "that is the sound of a woman regaining her conscious."

"What do we do?" asked Remus, looking down at his mother with wide, concerned eyes.

"We wait," she said softly, placing a hand on Isabella's shoulder.

"I'll go finish that letter."

* * *

He had told them a lie, having no idea how much truth his words held: Isabella was safe at Spinner's End, recuperating. She'd been hit with a rogue curse during the riot at the Quidditch World Cup, and Ministry officials had found her body and had taken her to St. Mungo's, and after a thorough examination to make sure she'd be well, she was sent home with him.

The Malfoys had bought it, of course, and when Severus had stressed no visitors, they'd understood. This was a family matter, but Severus had promised them that they'd be the first he'd contact once Isabella was better.

Now if only he could actually find her, but he knew his cousin—Isabella was a smart witch, and if anyone could take a hit and survive, it was she.

Of course, he'd had his reasons for lying, which he'd explained to Talia once they'd arrived home to a house devoid of Isabella. He'd needed to get her out of the Malfoy's house, just in case. It was no secret that her dearest Uncle Lu was a reformed Death Eater, one of Voldemort's ex-followers, and if Lucius had had something to do with the attack…

Tiredly, Severus shook his head. Sophia and Elijah sat across from him in the sitting room, looking pale, tired, and far older then what they really were. Seraphina was due to arrive any minute, her presence having been called upon by Severus. Talia had locked herself in her mother's room and refused to come out, accept food, or eat—she was isolating herself, and not even her grandmother had been able to get through to her.

So that was why Seraphina was needed. If Isabella was not present, then it was always Seraphina…

"What is taking her so long?" asked Elijah with an impatient sigh.

"You know she's not alone on that little isle's of hers anymore," said Severus cryptically.

"Don't remind me," grumbled Elijah. "What was Albus thinking, sending Sirius Black to her to be kept hidden?"

"Give it a rest, Eli," Sophia said with a tired sigh.

Her husband ignored her, continuing with, "It's not proper for—"

"Sera is quiet old enough to make her own decisions," reminded Sophia, "and she's quite happy with the arrangement. You do remember her last letter, don't you? Sirius has been nothing but a gentleman."

Elijah said nothing, knowing that he wouldn't win this battle. Seraphina was like a second daughter to him, and the mere thought of she and Sirius Black all alone on that island of hers… He did not like it, not matter what he'd been told, like how Sirius Black was innocent, and a gentleman.

Five minutes passed before the fireplace came alive with green flames, and out stepped Seraphina in all her glory. She was a tiny little thing, but she made up for it with a very big personality, and an ever bigger, colorful vocabulary.

"I have arrived, people," she announced, grinning, "now where's my little munchkin?"

Severus rolled his eyes. Seraphina was far too cheery for his tastes.

"She's upstairs," he drawled.

"Well, hello to you too, _Potions Master_," Seraphina said nastily, placing her hands on her hips. "I thought they taught you manners over at that castle you work in?"

"Well you haven't greeted our aunt and uncle, have you?" he hissed back.

"I was just getting there, dearest Sevy," Seraphina glared, and then turned away from him and smiled down at her relatives, saying cheekily, "Hello Aunt Sophie, Uncle Eli."

"Hello darling," Sophia said, rising from her seat to give her niece a kiss on the cheek, Elijah doing the same.

"Let's see if you have any luck with her," said Elijah, looking up at the ceiling to indicate that Talia was upstairs, "she's locked herself in her mother's room."

"Just give me 10 minutes," said Seraphina, before quickly walking out of the sitting room and taking the stairs two steps at a time, stomping extra hard, because she knew Severus did not like that.

Severus sighed, already feeling a headache coming on.

Sophia sighed as she took her seat, looking at her nephew as she said, "That feud between you two is getting ridiculous. How did it start again? You were… fifteen, weren't you?"

"I was _sixteen_ and she set my robes on fire," Severus said through gritted teeth. "… on **purpose**."

Elijah stifled a laugh, and Sophia nudged him with her elbow to shut him up.

"You seriously can't still be upset about that?" said Elijah with a teasing smile.

"She also mixed hair-removal powder into my shampoo," Severus said dangerously low, "Or how about the time she knocked me out and magicked makeup on my face that would not come off until I said: _Seraphina, the great and almighty, is prettier than me_, or the time she put toads in my luggage when—"

"Alright, we get the point," said Elijah, putting his hands up to calm his nephew. "But that happened so long ago, surely you two aren't still fighting?"

Severus glared at his uncle, and was about to come back with a biting retort, but in walked Widget from the kitchen, waving a letter in her tiny hands.

"Remus Lupin sends a letter!" the little elf exclaimed, walking over to Severus, "it be addressed to you, my Master."

Severus arched an eyebrow, his anger at his cousin shortly forgotten. He quickly took the letter from his house elf and read it once, twice, and a third time just to make sure that his eyes hadn't deceived him. A sudden tension left his shoulders then, and he sunk back into his armchair with a very tired sigh.

"Severus, my boy, what does Remus say?" asked Sophia, staring at her nephew curiously.

"I know where Isabella is."

* * *

Holding on to her aunt's hand, Talia slowly walked down to the sitting room. Seraphina wasn't supposed to be here, she had things to do back at _Isle of Corvus_, but Talia supposed it was all her fault that her aunt found herself at Spinner's End. She'd heard her uncle talking through the Floo earlier, he'd asked Seraphina to come and try to talk to her—it hadn't worked, at least not entirely. Talia still refused to talk, but she had allowed her aunt into her mother's bedroom, which was saying something. Seraphina had told her simply that all would be better in the end, and then she'd held her and stroked her hair, and said no more. She hadn't lied to her, nor filled her with false hope, and that was all that Talia wanted. Her grandmother and grandfather had tried to comfort her by telling her that Isabella was alright and that she'd soon be home—but they were just lying, Talia knew.

The elder Princes did not know where their daughter was.

Talia did not like being lied too.

In the sitting room, Talia immediately looked down to her shoes, gripping her aunt's hand tightly. Maybe if she wasn't looking at them they wouldn't tell her anything.

Her uncle wasn't there, but he had been moments earlier—she could still smell him in the sitting room, but it was faint. Her grandparents were the only ones that remained.

"Where's the git?" asked Seraphina, looking around for Severus.

"Sera, mind your language," said Sophia sternly, looking at Talia pointedly.

"My mistake," said Seraphina with a roll of the eyes. "But really, where is he?"

"We got a letter a couple of minutes ago, from Remus," said Sophia, and at hearing her father's name, Talia quickly looked up.

"He has Isabella," said Elijah with a sigh. "She apparated to him."

"Hear that?" said Seraphina as she looked down at Talia, "Your mum's with your dad! Isn't that great?"

Talia slightly smiled.

"We'll take over from here, Sera. You best be off now; you're supposed to stay on your island, you know," said Sophia, reaching a hand out for Talia, "c'mon sweetheart, we're going."

"To mum and dad?" asked Talia softly, timidly.

Sophia smiled. "Yes, to your mum and dad."

"You'll send me a letter, will you?" asked Seraphina as she played with her bracelets. "Albus Dumbledore be damned—if you need me I will come, you only need to say when."

"Of course," said Sophia, taking Talia's hand.

"Right, well, I'll go first then, you all take care now, and remember: I want a detailed report on Izzy's condition," said Seraphina as she walked to the fireplace. The tin of Floo power rested on the mantle, and after grabbing a pinch and stepping into place, she was gone in a bright flash of green flames.

"Our turn," said Elijah, grabbing Floo powder from the tin and stepping into the fireplace. He waited until his wife stood beside him, and between them was Talia, and after giving his wife a nod, he dropped the powder, saying clearly, "Monk's Hood Cottage!"

Green flames engulfed them and they were sailing through the air for just a second before touching down on stable ground. Stepping out of the grate, Talia found herself in a small sitting room. It was cozy, with warm colors and hardwood flooring, and smelled of cinnamon. The kitchen was to the right, and the front door was to the left, and across from them was a staircase with a wooden banister.

Talia took in a deep breath, and she immediately detected her father's scent, along with her uncle's, and a faint touch of her mother. She took to sniffing the air to get a feel for where everyone was, and as she did so, a scent from the kitchen made her look to the right. There was someone in the kitchen, someone whose scent she did not know.

"Someone's here," she said softly, looking up at her grandparents worriedly.

"How do you mean?" asked Sophia, looking down at her granddaughter curiously.

"I don't know who it is," she said, sniffing the air once more, "but it… I should know who it is. It smells familiar… kind of like my dad. Honey and chocolates and... sugar."

"That would be me, sweetie," said a kind voice from the kitchen, and out from the archway that served as the kitchen's entrance, stepped an older woman, with light brown hair and bright blue eyes, wearing simple robes. Her hands were wet, and she was drying them on her apron.

She'd been cooking.

"Adele," said Sophia, giving the other woman a smile. It had been so long since she had last seen her—about 16 years, more or less, way back when their children were dating in school.

"Hello Sophia, it's been a while, hasn't it?" said the woman, Adele.

"Yes, it has," agreed Sophia, before walking towards the woman and enveloping her in a hug. "How have you been?"

"To be honest, not good," Adele sighed, "Poor Remus is taking it hard."

"My dad," spoke up Talia, gripping her grandfather's hand tightly. She looked at the woman curiously, asking hesitantly, "You… know my dad?"

Adele smiled and nodded, saying gently, "What kind of mother would I be if I didn't know my own son?"

Talia stood stock still, surprised. This woman was her father's mother…

"Come here, girl," Adele said with a warm smile, "Come give your nana a hug."


	7. Snowdrop Flowers

She wasn't unconscious, but she wasn't conscious either. She was stuck on the edge, teetering from left to right, light to dark. She had no idea where she was, but she could sense that she was not alone. A hand brushed the hair away from her face, and another hand rested on the back of her thigh. The stranger's hands were warm, with familiar calluses. They caressed her skin lovingly; the thumb working her skin into soothing circles. It was enough to make her sigh… but then she screamed. Something was being done to her back, and it felt like her skin was being torn apart…

"Lupin, stun her," Severus said through gritted teeth, working a greenish salve onto the wounds of his cousin's back.

"I can't—"

"I don't care what you do, but make sure she stays **still!**"

Remus took in a deep breath and took out his wand. He pointed it at his beloved, and softly whispered, "_Petrificus totalus._"

Isabella stopped moving.

Her eyes were opened, and tears trickled down her skin, but her face remained motionless, a blank expression. She was screaming on the inside, crying out for the pain to stop, and there was nothing Remus could do expect cup her cheek and brush away the tears with his thumb.

"You're going to be okay," he said softly, a sob nearly escaping his lips, "It'll be over soon, I promise you."

Isabella, of course, said nothing. Her eyes looked so empty, staring off into nothingness, and it made Remus' wolf cry. It whimpered and howled desperately, making tears brim his eyes; her pain was their pain, and it burned him down to his very core…

A knock at the closed bedroom door took his attention off Isabella for just a moment, but it was enough for him to smell the air and know that at the other side of the door stood his daughter.

Severus seemed to know this as well.

"Ignore it. Isabella needs you right now," the Potions Master said quietly, walking over to a small table where he had spread out his needed tools. Gingerly he set down the jar that contained the salve he'd poured into his cousin's wounds; the salve was going to burn away the slowly growing infection, and he knew from experience that to do so, it would _literally_ burn away the bad blood, which was why it was causing Isabella so much pain.

All that was left was for Severus to use his wand to seal Isabella's wounds, and then it would be over.

"You can go to her after I finish here," he told Remus, as the knocking on the door had turned into continuous pounding.

With a heavy heart, Remus nodded, and watched as Severus drew his wand and began to trace the wounds on Isabella's back, muttering softly, "_Vulnera sanentur…"_

The counter-curse was said once to stop the blood from flowing out of the wounds, and then a second time to stitch the skin back together.

_Sectumsempra_ was a very vile curse… Severus would know.

After ten minutes, there was nothing on Isabella's back. Her wounds were healed, and the only thing left from the ordeal were the smears of green salve that had once covered gashes.

"_Finite_," said Severus, and Isabella moved once more.

A gasp left her lips, and then she said to Remus, "You bastard!"

The corner of Remus' lips twitched up into the smallest of smiles, and he couldn't help but to lean down and cover Isabella's lips with his own, silencing whatever else she'd been about to say to him.

_I knew it_, Severus thought as he watched his cousin embrace the werewolf. He'd known that Isabella and Remus' relationship had taken that extra step, and for once, he'd kept that knowledge to himself instead of confronting Isabella with it. He owed her as much.

"I thought I was going to lose you," Remus admitted breathlessly as he buried his face in the crook of Isabella's neck, his arms wrapped tightly around her, pressing her to his chest as he sat at the edge of the bed.

She was nearly on his lap.

"You know me better than that," Isabella said in return, stroking his hair back, but then she weaved her fingers into his locks and tugged back sharply, causing a startled gasp to leave Remus' lips. She stared into his eyes, the loving look gone from her face, and she said very slowly, "If you _ever_ petrify me again, Remus John Lupin, I will _end_ you. Understand?"

"Y-yes."

Severus smirked.

"Now," said Isabella with a small, tired smile, letting go of Remus' hair, "hand me some robes, I've flashed you long enough, and I'm sure Severus would appreciate it if I had more clothes on than just my knickers."

Remus turned beet-red, and then quickly nodded, rising from the bed and walking towards a dresser that was in the corner of the room. From the top drawer he produced a cotton nightgown that belonged to his mother, and although it would fit Isabella a bit big, it would do for now.

"What time is it, by the way," Isabella asked Remus as she accepted the nightgown, holding it up to her chest to cover herself.

"A little after seven. The sun set not too long ago."

Isabella nodded, and then said, "Go pacify Talia while I put myself together. I'll be down in a moment."

Remus nodded, and with a final kiss on her forehead, he walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him and leading a protesting Talia down to the kitchen.

Once Remus was gone, Isabella sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging. She looked over at Severus, who was currently in the process of putting his tools away, bottling his potions and putting all his things inside their leather carrier. His shoulders were hunched, and she could see his hands tremble—Severus was panicking, deep down, and Isabella knew this.

"Help me put this on, please," she said softly, "my back still kind of stings whenever I move."

Severus stopped what he was doing and silently walked to his cousin, stopping once he was standing in front of her. Isabella sat at the edge of the bed, and with a very delicate touch, Severus helped her into the nightgown.

"You can let go, Severus," Isabella said softly, grabbing his hand and looking up at him.

It came out as a ragged breath, which soon quickly turned into a strangled sob. Severus fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around his cousin's waist, burying his face in her lap as a howl of a sob shook his shoulders. Tears came to Isabella's eyes as she watched her cousin let go of all his emotions, and softly she sung to him, running her hands through his hair, not caring how greasy or uncombed it was.

"_Human, behave yourself, you have burst at the seams, let it all fall out; open your mouth_," Isabella sung gently, her fingers running through Severus' hair to sooth him, "_Often I lie wide awake, think of things I can make, but I don't seem to have the parts to build them._

_"Human, I wonder why you're a better make than I could even build or create, you know not love or hate. I am so scared of what will kill me in the end for I am not prepared. I hope I will get the chance to be someone, to be human—look what we've done, look what we've done…"_

Softly she sang, finishing the song, and Severus calmed down. She kept running her hands through his hair, whispering words of comfort, and when Severus finally looked up, she cupped his cheeks and gave him a smile.

"My ever faithful Severus," she said softly, "what would I do without you?"

Severus sighed, bringing his hands up to rub at his eyes, ridding them of lingering tears.

"Get yourself killed, that's what," he retorted bitterly, narrowing his eyes at her.

A chuckle escaped Isabella, and she shook her head, her hands sliding off her cousin's face.

Getting to his feet, Severus began to pat his pockets, muttering, "I have something I was supposed to give you once you'd come home from the Weasley's."

Isabella looked at him curiously, and watched as he pulled out from his pocket a wrinkled piece of parchment. Thrusting it at her, he said coolly, "Here, take it."

Isabella took it, and then unfolded it. She recognized Severus' elegant script, but the words on the page didn't make sense to her. They were ingredients, and instructions… he had given her a recipe for some kind of potion. Some herbs stood out to her, and others didn't, and there were mentions of the full moon and Wolfsbane… which made her nervous.

"Severus, what is this?" she asked him, looking up at him.

Severus rolled his eyes, saying, "It's all you'll ever need to know for when you make Lupin his Wolfsbane."

Isabella was confused for a moment, his words having gone right over her head, but then she grasped what he'd told her, and she looked up at him, astonished. Was Severus giving this to her as a form of forgiveness because of what he'd done at the end of the school year?

Wolfsbane was no stranger to her, but it was always Severus who made the potion for Talia, because Isabella did not know how, and when at Hogwarts it was Severus who made it for Remus. However, now that Remus wasn't at school anymore, he went without the potion because only a select few knew how to brew such a difficult mixture (and it was expensive), but now with this list…

"Oh Severus," she gushed, rising quickly and throwing her arms around his neck, ignoring the twinge of pain that came from her back, "thank you so much."

Severus said nothing. He simply held his cousin in place, burying his nose in her hair and breathing in her scent. She was safe and sound, and tonight, he'd be able to sleep without having worry keep him awake.

"You will tell Talia that you and Lupin are an item."

"Damn it Severus! Must you always ruin the moment?"

* * *

Talia had heard her mother screaming earlier, and she was furious when she hadn't been allowed into the room, but her father had told her that Isabella was safe, and that Severus was making her better. Begrudgingly she'd let her father take her down to the kitchen for a quick snack, and then after, to distract her, Remus had taken her out back, to the stables.

The Lupins owned horses; four beautiful Gypsy Vanners—the mares were white, while the only stallion was black. With a flick of his wand, Remus turned on all the lights inside the stables, and he then laughed upon seeing his daughter's star struck expression.

His horses were no unicorns, but by the look on Talia's face, they were as good as.

"Are you going to stare all night, or would you like to brush one?" he asked her, walking towards one of the meres, and opening the gate to her stall.

"I can brush one?" asked Talia as she quickly followed after him.

Remus nodded, saying, "What's mine is yours, darling. Think of it as a belated birthday present. This one here is yours."

Talia squealed and nearly tackled her father, wrapping her arms around him tightly. Remus laughed and hugged her back, kissing the top of her head before stepping back.

"Her name is Clover," he informed her, walking up to the mare and patting her neck, "she's the youngest out of all the mere's."

"Hello Clover," Talia told the horse with a grin.

"Stick your hand out," said Remus, "towards her nose."

Talia did as she was told, and then giggled as the mare nudged her hand with its nose.

"This is so cool," Talia gushed, looking up at her father with twinkling eyes, "I've never owned a horse before."

"I bet you haven't," Remus chuckled, ruffling her hair. "Stay here while I go get a brush, and a stool for you to stand on."

Talia simply nodded her head, too entranced with Clover, who was currently sniffing her hair curiously, to respond.

With a happy sigh, Remus walked out of the stall, and over towards the back of the stable. There was a utility closet there, along with a workbench, and racks that had bridles, reins, saddles, and all other things his horses needed. Their grooming equipment was on a shelf besides one of the racks, and quickly he took down a brush.

Turning on his heels, he took a step forward to walk back towards Talia, but stopped in his tracks upon seeing a figure standing by the entrance doors.

Isabella was in the stables.

"Oh, this takes me way back," she said, smiling fondly, making a smile appear on Remus' lips. She had a woolen shawl wrapped around her shoulders, and cotton slippers on her feet. Her hair looked like it had been washed, and it was currently on top of her head, wrapped around her crown in an intricate braid that he had seen his mother sport many times in the past.

"What makes you say that?" he asked, walking towards her, but not before stopping to peek into the stall that Talia and Clover were in. His daughter was so entranced with the mere that she hadn't even noticed her mother's presence, stroking Clover's cheek lovingly.

"It's been a while since I've been near one of your horses," Isabella said, walking over to the stallion's stall. Softly, she spoke to the horse, "How have you been, Nightshade?"

Nightshade simply blinked his eyes. It made Isabella chuckle.

"How's your back?" Remus asked softly as he walked up to her.

"Better now. Your mum made me drink some tea before coming out here—it helped with the pain," Isabella informed him, reaching a hand over the gate of Nightshade's stall to pet the stallion's nose.

"That's good."

Isabella nodded, drawing her hand back and turning to look at Remus. Softly she said, "I told my parents about us, along with your mum."

"You did? What did they… what did they say?" asked Remus softly, hesitant to know her answer.

"Our Mums were overjoyed. You know how much they always liked the idea of us together," Isabella said with a chuckle. "Dad on the other hand… he isn't opposed to us, don't get me wrong, but you know how overprotective father's can be."

To that, Remus smiled as he thought of Talia. He was just dreading the day when Talia would find someone to bring home to him.

"So what's the plan?" he asked gently.

"We tell Talia that her parents are a couple."

"How do you think she'll react to it?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Talia's voice cut into the conversation.

It made both her parents turn to look at her, seeing her standing outside of Clover's stall with her hands on her hips. She had a smile on her face, a little… _knowing_ smile. It made Isabella look at her disbelievingly—Talia had known all along!

"How long have you known?" Isabella asked her daughter.

"Just a little after Hogwarts," said Talia.

"But how?" asked Isabella, genuinely confused. She had taken care of keeping her relationship with Remus a secret.

Talia shrugged, saying, "You've been smiling more, and that's how I knew something was going on."

Isabella looked at Remus, who was trying not to smile, and then back at her daughter. "You are so much like your father."

"I know," said Talia, before rushing to her mother and enveloping her in a hug. "I was so worried," she said softly against her mother's chest.

Isabella sighed, wrapping her arms around her daughter as she softly said, "I was worried too, my love, but I'm back now—you've nothing to fear."

Talia stayed latched onto her mother for a few more minutes, breathing in her comforting scent and reassuring herself that this wasn't a dream, that her mother was really there, in her arms.

It broke Isabella's heart to see her daughter so worked up, but then a smile graced her lips as an idea popped into her head.

_Oh, Talia will love this…_

"Remus," Isabella began, looking up at Remus with a tiny grin, "how about we take the horses for a nighttime stroll?"

Talia immediately squealed in delight, rushing off towards Clover as she proclaimed, "This is Clover! She's mine—I'll ride her!"

Isabella smiled, and then she pursued her lips as Talia's words slowly began to make sense to her. Turning sharply, she glared up at Remus as she exclaimed, "You gave Talia a horse!?"

Remus chuckled nervously, saying, "Well, you see, I thought that—"

Isabella silenced him with her lips, grabbing the collar of his shirt and bringing him down close so that they were pressed tightly against one another. The kiss lasted only a moment, and then Isabella pushed him away, saying lowly, "You are an amazing father, Remus Lupin—but don't you even dare think that this horse is coming back home with us. Severus would flip!"

Remus shook his head, chuckling. "Of course; wouldn't dream of it."

"Right. Now," Isabella said, marching over to the mere whose stall was beside Nightshade's, "I'll ride Snowdrop."

"You were always fond of that one," Remus said thoughtfully as he walked back to the racks to get the reins.

They would ride without saddles tonight.

"You do you _why, _right?" Isabella said, a small smile on her lips.

Remus shook his head.

"Her name means hope, dearest. And hope is a synonym of trust."

Remus just stared back at Isabella, his face blank for a moment, before a large grin split his lips. "I love you, Isabella."

"I love you more, sweetheart."

* * *

**AN:** I don't like this chapter... oh well.  
**Song used:** Human, by Ellie Goulding


	8. Communication Error

**AN: **Things mentioned in this chapter go hand in hand with _Chapter 4: Bewitched_, of the Sirius Black spin-off, _Isle of Corvus_.

* * *

"Do you have your wand?"

"Yes mum."

"Is your trunk on the train?"

"Yes mum."

"Did you let Brutus do his business before putting him in his carrier?"

"Yes mum."

"Did _**you**_ do your business before—"

"YES MUM! Can I go now? Draco's already on the train!"

With a heavy heart, Isabella nodded. She leaned down and brought her daughter into her arms, hugging her tightly and kissing the top of her head before letting her go.

Today was September 1st, and Talia was going back to Hogwarts. It broke Isabella's heart to have to see her daughter go, but Draco had promised her that he'd watch over her, and it lessened the worry on Isabella's shoulders. The riot at the Quidditch World Cup had left her paranoid, and she couldn't help but to be overprotective.

Death Eaters were getting stronger. There were constant reports about riots and attacks, and it left a bad taste in Isabella's mouth. Severus had assured her that it was just a bunch of fools crying out for attention, that none of the attacks were connected to the Dark Lord himself, but it didn't make Isabella feel any better.

With a sigh, Isabella watched her daughter board the train. Another year without Talia being home… Isabella would never get used to it, and to make matters worse, Isabella did not plan to make her monthly visits up to the castle anymore. Talia was growing up, and she needed to learn to handle the full moons on her own. It broke Isabella's heart to "wean" her daughter of her presence, but it was what needed to be done. However, if anything odd were to happen, Isabella would be at Hogwarts within the span of a heartbeat.

Waving goodbye with the rest of the parents, Isabella watched as the last students boarded the train. Moments later, the Hogwarts Express was gone, leaving behind nothing but a trail of white smoke in its wake.

"Letting go is never easy," said Narcissa, who'd been standing at Isabella's side the entire time. "It gets better with time, I assure you."

Isabella nodded, toying with a lock of hair that had falling out of her braid.

"So, what are you doing this afternoon?" asked Narcissa curiously.

"I have to head home," Isabella lied, "My mother is stopping by to check up on me—to see how I'm doing after that horrible ordeal at the World Cup. I'm assuming she'll keep me busy until late."

"Oh, I was hoping we'd go get lunch together," Narcissa said with a small frown.

"How about next week?"

"I'll send you an owl then," Narcissa smiled.

* * *

Cautiously, Isabella walked into the muggle bookstore that was just a stone's throw away from the train station, making sure that the hood of her cloak didn't fall back and reveal her identity; she had lied to Narcissa, after all.

She did a sweep of the interior with her eyes, taking in all the little details. There were rows and rows of books, clusters of tables for those who would rather read their books in-store, and off in a corner there was some kind of machine that was making coffee for those willing to pay the fee.

On top of the machine was a woven basket, filled with a select number of snacks, and a small sign was placed beside the basket, showing off the price of each individual treat.

Isabella had agreed to meet with Remus after seeing Talia off. She had quite a few things to tell him. She just hoped he wouldn't freak out when it came to "the big one", as she called it.

Wandering the store, Isabella found Remus in the back, hunched over a book at one of the tables. An empty coffee cup was on the tabletop, along with a napkin that showed remnants of a biscuit.

"Hey handsome, this seat taken?" Isabella asked softly as she stepped up behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders and motioning towards the empty seat beside him.

"Isabella," Remus said as a greeting, tilting his head back to look up at her, a small smile on his lips.

"Remus," Isabella mocked with a smirk, before bending down and placing a quick kiss on his forehead. Quickly she took the empty seat beside him. They were seated far enough away from the display windows to ensure that they wouldn't be seen, so Isabella pushed back the hood of her cloak, deeming it safe to show her face.

"So," Remus asked, setting down the book he'd been reading, "how was seeing Talia off?"

"Firstly," Isabella said, reaching over to snatch the book away from Remus, "what the hell are you reading?"

The book was thick, paperback, with a black and yellow cover. The title read, "_Magic for Dummies_," in white letters, and there was a figure of a little wand shooting out stars, along with a pointed hat, and the image of a black cat.

"I found it in the fiction aisle," Remus said with a laugh. "Muggles sure know how to have a laugh."

"Ooh, speaking of _isles_ and laughs," Isabella said secretively, sliding the book back towards Remus, "you'll never guess what news our favorite animagus sends us."

"**You're** my favorite animagus, Isabella," Remus said with a cheeky grin.

Isabella blushed, but rolled her eyes. "I'm being serious, Remus."

"So am I."

"_Remus_," Isabella hissed, amusement dancing in her eyes as she swatted his arm playfully, "I'm trying to tell you something."

"Alright, alright, what has Padfoot done now?"

"It's not what he's _done_," Isabella pointed out, remembering Sirius' letter well, "It's what he's _about _to do."

"How do you mean?" asked Remus, genuinely confused.

"He… claims to be in love with Sera," Isabella said with a little smirk, making Remus look at her with a surprised expression on his face, "and he told me that he's going to ask her out on a date, but since he can't leave the island, he's just going to fix her a dinner out on the beach and make his intentions known."

"Well, I'll be damned," Remus said, sounding astonished. "He never mentioned anything like that when he wrote to me."

"I guess he wants to keep it a secret for now," Isabella shrugged. "It's kind of sweet, all things considered."

"It's interesting, that's what it is," said Remus with a soft chuckle. "They've been living together since late June, right?"

"Yes," said Isabella. "But what does that even matter? It's Padfoot we're talking about—remember when he went out with that Ravenclaw after two days of talking to her?"

"I see your point," said Remus with a nod.

"They'd make a cute couple though… if it lasts more than a couple of days, that is," Isabella said smartly.

"True," Remus shrugged. "So, you mentioned in your letter you had something important to tell me—is something wrong?"

Isabella sighed. She was cursing herself for not just letting it all out in a letter, but Remus deserved better than that. She just didn't know how he'd react to knowing that his daughter was one of Rowena Ravenclaw's descendants (along with she). She'd made the decision to tell him the night before. The notion had been random, but she was done with keeping things from him.

It didn't mean that she couldn't lag, though…

"Talia got her period last night," Isabella blurted out, "for the first time. She panicked—thought something had broken inside of her. I've given her _the talk_ various times now, but I guess the shock of seeing all that blood just got to her. I uh, thought you should know."

Remus just stared at Isabella blankly, before his cheeks reddened. Awkwardly he said, "Um, oh. I guess Talia's a… a woman now."

"She's all grown up," Isabella agreed, playing with the hem of her sleeves.

An awkward silence ensued after that, Remus looking down at the tabletop blankly, while Isabella kept playing with the sleeves of her robes. _Maybe telling Remus about Talia's _**other** _monthly problem wasn't such a good idea_, Isabella thought idly, but it had been the first thing to pop into her head, and thus she had blurted it out.

"I have a feeling that's not what you intended to tell me," Remus said quietly after a moment, looking at Isabella with a knowing look. He knew her well enough to know when she was keeping something from him, or when she was stalling. Sure, he was… _happy_ to know that his daughter was becoming a woman, but it wasn't a topic he necessarily wanted to talk about, nor the topic Isabella initially wanted to talk about. That much he was certain of.

"Right, well, you see…" Isabella trailed off, searching her mind for the right words to tell Remus, but she kept drawing a blank. With a frustrated sigh, she gave up, and mumbled, "how about if I just show you?"

"Isabella—"

"I don't how to explain… _it,_ and I just… showing you would be better, I think," Isabella confessed, giving Remus an apologetic smile.

Remus stared at Isabella curiously, wondering what it was that she couldn't bring herself to say. Sadly, he couldn't find his answer in her eyes, nor on the expression of her face. It left him no other choice but to nod his head and go along with whatever she had in store for him.

"We can get there via apparition… I asked for the wards to be brought down for the day, so we shouldn't have any problems, I think."

Remus quirked an eyebrow. What exactly was he getting himself into?

* * *

**AN: **It bothers me when some stories do not mention the simple problems of being a human. I understand that sometimes mentioning when a character goes to the bathroom just... Well, it's something that doesn't really need to be said because it's assumed that it's happening behind the scenes, but I like to point things out. Being descriptive is in my nature.

Talia getting her "other" monthly problem is just one of those things that I thought was needed in this story to point out that she's growing up.

I hope no one was put off by this. It'll be mentioned again in Chapter 10, just so you know.


	9. The Glens of Scotland

Remus never liked side-along apparition, especially if it was a few days after the full moon. His body was still tender from his transformation, and although he no longer would need the help of his cane, he was still weak, and risked the danger of getting splinched, or lost in the "void", as he called it. However, for Isabella, he would risk losing an arm, and he knew how bad that was, but he just loved her so damn much.

Love was blinding—he could only shrug about that.

They arrived to their destination in the span of five seconds, Remus feeling nauseous, but it only lasted for a moment. He didn't even have a chance to check his surroundings before Isabella was upon him, patting him down and checking him for injuries. It made him smile.

"I'm alright," he assured her, grabbing her wandering hands and raising them up to meet his lips in a kiss, "just a bit dizzy, is all."

"I would have suggested the Floo Network, given your state, but this place isn't connected to anything," Isabella said absentmindedly, rising a hand to brush a lock of hair away from Remus' eyes.

"Where exactly are we, love?" Remus asked curiously, looking away from Isabella and up to survey his surroundings, never letting go of her hands.

Isabella smiled nervously, biting the inside of her cheek as she watched Remus' eyes dart from left to right.

They were standing in a forest, tall, ancient trees towering high above them, shooting up into the sky and seeming to brush the undersides of clouds. The smell of pine, rain, and wet earth danced about in the afternoon breeze, refreshing the senses and clearing up the mind. There was a certain magic about the air that told Remus that this forest was ancient, and that the land he stood upon was not ordinary. It made him anxious and nervous; he could nearly feel the magic crackling and skirting across his skin, giving him goose bumps.

"We're in Scotland," Isabella said quietly, looking around the forest, through the trees, seeing something that Remus couldn't, "the glens specifically."

"It's beautiful," Remus admitted, drawing his eyes down to Isabella, "but why are we here? What's going on, Isabella?"

Slowly Isabella removed her hands from Remus' grasp, and then began to rummage through the inner pocket of her robes. It only took her a moment to find what she was looking for, which was a small piece of parchment, folded up in half.

"You need to read this," Isabella said, handing Remus the piece of parchment, "but not right now; not here."

"I don't understand."

"It's… the place I've brought you to," Isabella began, "it's under the Fidelius Charm."

"You're a Secret-Keeper?" Remus asked, surprised.

Isabella nodded, a small smile on her lips. "There are many things I haven't told you—I've had to withhold some information from you, like certain secrets Severus has given for me to keep… but this one, that slip of paper… I trust you Remus, and I've decided to share something with you that is, well, important enough to be under the Fidelius Charm."

Remus did not know what to say. This was something big. Not just anyone was made Secret-Keeper…

"Isabella," he began softly, "this is… I don't even know what to say, but know that I am honored that you trust me enough to share this information with me."

"No secrets between us unless absolutely necessary, yeah?" Isabella said with a smile, and Remus nodded. "Come my love, I want you to open the parchment over there. I'm aware that I can just orally say the name of the place… but this is more… mysterious, don't you think?"

Remus just smiled.

Mutely he followed behind Isabella as she led him through the trees. There was no definite path that she was following, but by her careful steps, and with how easily Isabella managed to lead Remus out of the trees and into a plain of rolling, green fields that stretched on for miles, he could tell that this was not her first romp in these woods.

As they stood in what seemed to be a clearing, Remus could feel a different type of magic dancing across his skin. There was something in front of him, even though his eyes saw nothing but hill after hill of luscious green grass. He supposed this was where the little piece of parchment came in.

"Before you read it," Isabella said softly, "promise me you won't freak out."

"Freak out?" asked Remus doubtfully, "what is there to freak out about?"

"You'll see," Isabella said cryptically.

Remus arched an eyebrow in question, but Isabella merely motioned to the parchment with her eyes, and Remus opened it. There were only two words written in Isabella's curvy script, but never in a million years did Remus ever imagine that two simple words would confuse him so much.

"Ravenclaw Manor?"

Isabella nodded, and immediately after Remus had spoken those two words, a very beautiful manor house glittered into existence right before them, taking up a good portion of the large plain that had been empty moments earlier. Remus was in awe as he stared at the large manor house; never had he seen such a building so beautifully crafted. The manor was at least five stories high, with ivy-covered walls, and tall, silver gates. There were various trees on the property, along with intricate gardens, and Remus could have sworn that he heard the loud, beating of wings from somewhere behind the manor, but he could not be sure.

"Are you freaking out yet?"

"I'm getting there."

"Should I give you a minute?"

"Two would suffice."

"Is it too late to say that there are winged horses at the back of the property?"

"No, you're still good."

"How about if I said that I'm Rowena Ravenclaw's heiress?"

"I'm freaking out now, thanks."

"You're welcome."

* * *

_I'm a Secret-Keeper, but not just any ol' Secret-Keeper— I'm Rowena Ravenclaw's bloody Secret-Keeper! Oh, this is grand,_ thought Remus as he walked through Ravenclaw Manor, a child-like curiosity shining in his eyes now that he had gotten over the initial shock of being one of the few people to know of Rowena Ravenclaw's home—and to be in the presence of one of Rowena Ravenclaw's heiresses. This was just incredible, his mind was still reeling, trying to take in all the fine little details—oh, how he just wanted to jump and break out into a song!

"… and here we conclude our tour of Ravenclaw Manor," Isabella had been saying, and with a flourish of hand movements, she presented Remus the glass doors that led into the back of the property.

"You mentioned winged horses," Remus said with a grin, "I'm assuming they're through those doors?"

Isabella nodded, opening the glass doors and stepping out, Remus eagerly followed behind her. He nearly tripped at the sight that greeted him. There was a group of beautiful, chestnut colored, _Aethonan horses_ grazing on the pastures behind the manor, a sight that made Remus' heart jump. He loved horses, which was a fact proven by the Gypsy Vanners that he owned, but those were nothing in comparison to genuine, **winged** horses.

"Amazing," Remus breathed, staring at the horses with wide eyes.

"There are about 10, I believe," informed Isabella, "however, there could be more. The _Aethonans_ come and go as they please—they're wild, you see."

"Are they friendly?" asked Remus.

"They are," Isabella told him, a small smile on her lips, "There's this story my grandfather once told me about the horses and how they came to call these hills their homes. Would you like to hear it?"

"Of course," said Remus with a smile, looking down at Isabella.

"Alright… way back when, there lived Owen Ravenclaw—he comes out being my great, great, great, great uncle or something, anyways, one morning he's out in the woods, hunting, when he comes across one lone _Aethonan_. The horse was looking for food, but it was the wintertime and the lands were coated in snow, so it couldn't find much. Owen Ravenclaw saw that the horse was malnourished, so from his bag he pulls out a single apple, and offers it to the horse. The horse takes the proffered fruit, and Owen decides to give up on his hunt and head back home. He reaches the manor, and goes inside for a nice warm dinner—a day passes and he forgets about the horse, but then in the middle of the night he hears the flapping of wings. The horse had come back, but it had brought another. Owen Ravenclaw sees that both horses are in a poor state, so he leaves out apples for them. The horses take the apples and leave, and Owen goes back to sleep. However, right before the break of dawn, he's awoken by the familiar flapping of wings. The two horses were back yet again, but this time they'd brought more of their kin."

"And that's why they're here?" asked Remus with a chuckle.

Isabella nodded. "Obviously the original horses of the story are no longer living, but their nieces and nephews and grandkids remain, coming back for apples and just… living here, I guess. During the wintertime we always make sure to have the house elves leave lots of fruits and vegetables for them, along with hay and water."

"Remarkable," Remus mused.

Isabella chuckled. "I guess so."

"Does Talia know about them?"

"No," Isabella said with a shake of the head, a rueful smile on her lips, "Talia does not know about the _Aethonans_… or the manor, for that matter."

Remus stared down at Isabella with furrowed eyebrows, softly he said, "What do you mean?"

"Talia does not know about Ravenclaw Manor. She does not know that she is a descendant of Ravenclaw—there is a reason this place is under the Fidelius Charm."

"Is that why no one lives here," Remus asked in return, and Isabella nodded.

"There aren't many of us left," Isabella told him, playing with the hem of her sleeves nervously, "some of them have renounced their heritage because they think it dangerous, and most of them have died during the war against You-Know-Who. It's just… being a Ravenclaw, or being related to any of Hogwarts' founders—it's not something you want to boast about. There are people who would kill to get into this manor, to learn all its secrets, to posses the power and knowledge that is deep within its walls… That is why the Ravenclaw name was changed to Ravencroft, and why this manor was placed under the protection of the Fidelius Charm. Only house elves live here full time—a shame, really."

"I never would have imagined…" trailed off Remus, a pensive expression on his face.

Isabella gave him a small smile, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. "C'mon, I can summon a couple of apples and we can give them to the horses—would you like that?"

Remus nodded, following behind Isabella as she walked closer towards the winged horses, but then a sudden thought entered his mind, which made him stop in his track. Isabella noticed that Remus wasn't behind her, and she too stopped walking, turning around and giving him a curious look.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, now that you've put things out in the open, will you tell me why the Malfoys have been appointed as Talia's godparents?"

Isabella rolled her eyes. "Merlin… I thought we had a moment going on here, Remus."

"I'm genuinely curious; I have a right to know why such people are so closely tied to my daughter."

Isabella's eyes narrowed. "_Such people?_" she repeated, arching an eyebrow.

"I know that you're rather fond of them, but their track record isn't exactly clean," Remus reasoned.

Isabella sighed. She had to admit that Remus did make a point, but he wasn't seeing what was outside of the box.

"The Malfoys are purebloods," she began, "Their name tied to yours ensures security, protection—only a fool would dare to cross the goddaughter of Lucius Malfoy."

"Well shit."

"Well shit indeed, my dear Remus. I planned ahead."

* * *

**AN:** What do you think? I'm rather fond of this chapter.

Reviews make me happy, and a happy Ellie is a motivated Ellie, which means more updates for you.

If you're interested, I've got other stories posted, one in the _Supernatural_ category, and one in the _True Blood_ category.

:)


	10. Back In Action

The Hogwarts Express was running quietly through Scotland, its compartments filled with eager students looking forward to the start of a new school year. In one particular compartment, near the back of the train, sat Talia and Draco. They spent their time talking about random things, like the aftermath of the riot at the World Cup, along with Talia's broken wand, which could not be salvaged. She had had to make a trip down to Diagon Alley to visit Mr. Ollivander's Wand Shop the other day. Her new wand consisted of willow, with a unicorn hair as the core. Coincidentally, Draco's wand contained a strand of unicorn hair in the core as well, and the two had compared and contrasted their wands, claiming that theirs was better than the others were.

They soon lost interest in talking about their wands, and moved on to just sitting side by side, enjoying the comfortable silence that stretched on between them. Occasionally they'd voice their thoughts, engaging in short conversation, but for the most part, they simply sat silently, enjoying the passing scenery that flew by their window as they grew closer to reaching Hogwarts.

It was some time later that the silence was broken by a pained sigh that left Talia's lips. There was this strange pain bellow her belly button; it felt like her insides were contracting and crunching up together—her mother had called it _cramps_. Just thinking about what her body was undergoing made Talia cringe. She'd known that this was bound to happen, that she'd start… _menstruating_, as all girls did when they came to be a certain age. It didn't mean that she'd been prepared for it, though. She just wanted it to go away, but her mother had told her that it would last a week, at the most—_kill me now._

"Where are your _friends_," Talia asked Draco lazily, drawing up her knees and tucking them to the side so that her legs rested on the compartment seat; her head was resting on Draco's shoulder.

Draco shrugged, which made Talia bob her head along with his shoulder. "Don't know, don't care. They'll get here soon enough, I suppose. If not, then they've probably found somewhere else to sit."

"_Fantastic_," Talia hissed. The last thing she needed was to see Pansy giving Draco bedroom eyes. That girl had no tact, and Draco was too smug to discourage Pansy's attentions.

Hopefully, neither Pansy nor those other two dunderheads would make an appearance until Talia and Draco reached the school.

"So, how's your mum?" asked Draco idly, throwing an arm around Talia's shoulders.

"Her back is all healed up," Talia informed her friend, shifting in her seat so that her head rested on Draco's chest, "she's back to normal… as normal as she was to begin with."

To that, Draco chuckled softly. "So, how's your stomach ache?"

To _that, _Talia curled her lip up in a silent growl. "Not any better, I'm afraid."

Of course that had been a lie, Talia didn't have a stomach ache, but she was not about to tell Draco about her _monthly_ problem. There were just some things that a girl needed to keep to herself, and this was definitely one of those things.

"So," Draco began, his voice going down two octaves, near a whisper, "I know something you don't know."

"By all means, enlighten me," said Talia with a roll of the eyes.

"I'll give you three guesses," said Draco in return.

Talia sighed, but decided to go along with whatever game Draco was playing. "Alright, uh… does it have to do with your family?"

"No," said Draco, and as an afterthought, added, "Although I did find out through my father. He's high up in the Ministry, you know."

_Oh, so it has to do with the Ministry_, thought Talia. _Well, you've certainly stumped me, Draco. I don't have a bloody idea as to what you know._

"C'mon, you've got two guesses left," prompted Draco with a teasing grin.

"I'm thinking," shot back Talia nastily.

_So, it has to do with the Ministry… and your father, or at least your father is involved for him to tell you, and your father works for the Ministry doing I don't know what—wait, he was in the Board of Trustees for Hogwarts, so—_

"It has something to do with Hogwarts," Talia said with finality.

"How'd you figure that out?" asked Draco, genuinely confused.

"I'm just smart," said Talia smugly.

"Well, go on, you're on the right track—one more guess to go," said Draco begrudgingly.

"Well, if it has something to do with Hogwarts then I think—_OWE_," Talia hissed, doubling over in pain, her arms immediately wrapping around her midsection.

"What's wrong?" asked Draco quickly, his arm dropping from Talia's shoulders.

Talia said nothing; she just closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. The pain had been sudden, sharp, like if she was being stabbed in the abdomen by a knife. It had caught her off guard, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

"I'm okay," Talia said softly, sitting up and telling out a shaky breath, "It was just a… _stomach_ cramp."

"You better see Madam Pomfrey about that," Draco told her, his eyebrows furrowed worriedly, "Maybe it was something you ate."

"Probably," said Talia absentmindedly, "Anyways, where were we?"

"I should just tell you," said Draco with a sigh.

"Please, do so," said Talia with a soft chuckle, settling back against Draco's chest, the two resuming their previous position, with Draco's arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her firmly against his side.

"What do you know about _the Triwizard Tournament_?"

"The Triwizard—_what?_"

* * *

Pouring rain greeted the students as the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station. The ever present Hagrid stood awaiting the first years on the platform, a lantern in hand to light the way up to the docks were the traditional little boats awaited their passengers. Quickly the students exited the train, not worrying about dragging along their luggage, for they knew that the house elves would take care of it. Immediately, little groups began to break away from the general mass of bodies that tromped out of the ancient steam engine; there were the confused little first years that quickly scurried off to follow behind Hagrid, while the older students began making their way to the awaiting self-drawn carriages that would take them up to the school. Talia and Draco nearly ran all the way to one of the carriages in the queue, throwing the doors open and pushing each other out of the way to get inside first. Their cloaks were soaked through, weighing them down, and their hair was sticking to their faces, several shades darker with all the extra moisture.

They looked like drowned cats.

"Merlin's pants," Talia panted, ringing out her hair as she shifted in her seat, "it's simply pouring out there."

"You don't say," mumbled Draco sarcastically, bringing up his sleeve to dry his face. "I hadn't even noticed."

"Oh shut up," chuckled Talia, nudging Draco's foot with her own. "C'mon, use that drying spell, will you? I haven't really gotten used to my wand and I don't want to risk setting myself on fire."

"Really?" asked Draco with a taunting laugh, shaking his head as he took his wand out of his pocket. "I thought you were supposed to be… all knowing or something; top of your class and all that. You should have mastered your new wand by now."

"I'm not perfect, Draco," Talia shrugged, gathering up her wet hair so that she could twist it up into a bun.

"You are to me," Draco muttered quietly without even thinking.

"What?"

"Nothing—so, that drying spell…"

* * *

The Great Hall was buzzing with hushed murmurs. There were several empty seats up at the head table, and this was cause for gossip. Many students were curious as to who would fill in those empty seats, while the general consensus was curious as to who would fill up the Defense Against the Darks Arts post. There had been no word on who would teach the subject, or if the class would even be offered this school year. Many students were curious to see what would happen there, but none of them were as concerned as Talia was.

Remus Lupin should be sitting in that empty seat on the right, next to her uncle, but he wasn't, and the sight of his empty chair was upsetting. Talia would never forgive her uncle for telling her father's secret, not really, but she was on speaking terms with him. If it were not for her uncle's experienced hand, her mother would have most likely died; Talia owed Severus that much.

The first years came walking into the Great Hall soon enough, being led in by Professor McGonagall. The Sorting Hat sang its song, and the Sorting ceremony ensued shortly after. Talia watched with mild curiosity, remembering idly how her sorting had gone. She had not confessed this to anyone, but the old hat had nearly thrown her into Gryffindor.

"Ooh, I'm starving," Talia exclaimed as the feast materialized on the table before her.

"When are you _not_ hungry, Talia?" Draco asked with a roll of the eyes.

"As if you aren't enjoying that drumstick," Talia scoffed, motioning towards the large chicken leg that Draco had set on his plate. "That thing is nearly the size of my arm."

"Oh shut up," Draco sneered, before quickly changing the conversation and saying, "hey, pass me that bowl of baked potatoes."

Talia arched an eyebrow and gave Draco an incredulous look. "A _normal_ person would have asked for **one** potato… not the _whole bowl_."

"I wanna pick out which potato I eat, not just settle for whichever one you give me," Draco said smartly.

"You're pickier than I am," Talia mumbled, leaning over the table to grab the bowl of baked potatoes, passing it to Draco.

"I'm not the one who spent an hour the night before deciding on what socks to wear."

"Well at least I wasn't the one who spent thirty minutes deciding which side to part my hair."

"At least I didn't freak out because I couldn't find my scarf."

"At least I didn't freak out when that spider crawled into the bed with us."

"That thing nearly touched me!" Draco exclaimed, his face heating up, an indignant expression on his face as he tried to ignore the curious and amused looks his fellow Slytherins were shooting him, "it was inches away from my face, _Natalia_."

"It was no bigger than my thumbnail, _Draco_."

"Idiot," he mumbled.

"Stupid," muttered Talia in return.

"Bitch," Draco hissed.

"Dumbass," she shot back nastily.

"Asshole," Draco said with a sneer.

"Ass… butt?" Talia faltered.

The two Slytherins stared at each other for a moment, before breaking up into peals of laughter. Talia swatted Draco's arm, while Draco ruffled her hair, making various strands cover her eyes.

"Assbutt?" asked Draco, quirking up an eyebrow in question.

"I panicked, what do you expect?" asked Talia in return, tucking her hair behind her ears, her cheeks gaining an embarrassed rosy hue.

"Certainly something better than: _Assbutt_," snickered Draco.

Talia rolled her eyes. "No comment."

Draco scoffed, a smirk playing at his lips.

The feast wore on.

Pansy, who had been sitting across from Draco and Talia, stabbed at her food with her fork angrily. Jealousy consumed her, heating up her cheeks and causing a very murderous look to cross her eyes. It should be her sitting beside Draco, making him smile, sleeping over at his house, teasing and joking around with him. What could he possibly see in Talia? The girl was only twelve; how could he prefer that little… _thing_, to her?

What could Talia offer Draco that Pansy couldn't?

The Snapes weren't even wealthy—Pansy had done her research over the summer. Mrs. Snape appeared to be not working, and Professor Snapes' teaching salary wasn't nearly up to par with those of the elite. Her family had more money than they did; the Parkinsons were of old money, and the Snapes… they were nothing, insignificant, unheard of. Why would the Malfoys want to associate themselves with _that_ kind of people?

Pansy just didn't get it.

From the high table, Dumbledore stood, immediately drawing the attention of all the students in the Great Hall, making them forget about their meal. He had a curious expression on his face, his eyes twinkling with mischief behind half-moon glasses. Slowly he walked around the table, stopping once he stood at the center of all four house-tables. He waited a moment, to make sure that all eyes were on him, and only then, when he was sure that everyone was looking at him, did be begin his announcements after a warm welcome to the first years.

"Many things will be happening this year," Dumbledore said ominously, his hands behind his back, "but first, I would like to say that the inter-house Quidditch championship has been canceled."

At once, there was an uproar, the rowdiest of the students being the Quidditch players, who all bore a mixture of surprised and angry expressions on their faces as they yelled out their protests.

Dumbledore took it all in stride, and seemed unaffected as various indignant shouts were thrown his way; he even dared himself to smirk.

"Now now," he said calmly, raising a hand to hush his students, "there is a very good reason for why the Quidditch championship—"

A door suddenly slammed shut, echoing all throughout the Great Hall. All the students went silent as they watched a rather curious looking man step out of the staff door that was behind the high table, making his way to one of the empty seats—_Remus'_ empty seat, to be precise.

"Please tell me that is not who I think it is," whispered Talia to Draco, leaning into his side.

"I think it's exactly who you think it is," said Draco quietly. "Isn't he just a sight for sore eyes?"

"Indeed," snickered Talia with a crinkle of her nose, staring down at the… man, who was getting comfortable at the high table.

"Ah, Alastor, right on time," Dumbledore said with a grin, nodding his head at the man.

The man, Alastor, merely grunted in response.

"Students, I would like to introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody," announced Dumbledore.

No one clapped.

Professor Moody was a very strange looking man. His face was heavily scarred, so damaged that no distinct facial features could be distinguished… if you did not count the magical false eye he had strapped to his face—it also looked like he had a good-sized chuck taken out of his nose, which was rather unsettling for the younger students. Only one good leg served the man, while the other was a prosthetic, made of wood. Every so often, he would bring up a little hip flask to his lips, drinking greedily at whatever liquid it contained, which was cause for various quirked eyebrows.

The goblet of pumpkin juice that was right at his fingertips was left untouched.

"Our new professor is a drunk," said Draco with a tone of disgust as he took notice of Moody's hip flask, but then he scoffed, saying, "Given his past work history, I wouldn't blame him."

"How do you mean?" asked Talia quietly, as Dumbledore continued with his announcements.

"He's an ex-auror," Draco told her softly, "word around the Ministry is that he's insanely paranoid of anything and everything, and eventually they took his title as an auror away from him because of that. They couldn't risk Moody cursing anyone for just looking at him the wrong way. My father even says that Moody had cursed his trash bins to attack anyone that entered his office."

"You don't think he'd do that here, do you?"

Draco shrugged, and Talia turned to look up at Dumbledore.

"… a one thousand galleon prize will be awarded to the winner," Dumbledore had been saying, "Only students 17 years and older can enter the tournament. Representatives from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang schools will be arriving in October, and will stay here with us at Hogwarts for the duration of the Tournament."

The headmaster was talking about the Triwizard Tournament, the reason why Quidditch championships would be canceled that year. Talia had had absolutely no idea what the Tournament was all about, but Draco had explained it to her, back in the Hogwarts Express. The Tournament was a competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions were to compete in three magical tasks.

The Tournament had been a common event many years ago, being held every five years, each school taking a turn being its host. However, because of its dangerous tasks and high death toll, the Tournament was discontinued. It had not been held for over a century… but now it was back, but with various precautions, like how only wizards and witches who were of age could enter.

"This year's gonna be interesting," Talia commented as Dumbledore sent his students off to their dormitories.

"You don't say?" asked Draco sarcastically.

"Oh shut up, stupid."

"Idiot."

"Asshole."

"Assbutt—"

"_Draco!_"

"_Natalia!_"

"You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

"Of course not."

"Damn it."

_Oh, this school year is going to be interesting, indeed…_

* * *

**AN:** I love writing Talia and Draco's interactions.

What do you think?


	11. The Fox and the Ferret

The first day of classes wore on slowly, and the excitement of being back in school quickly diminished with each passing second spent in a classroom. The students loved going back to school… but they didn't necessarily go for the homework and lectures.

For the morning block, Talia had two classes—Charms and Herbology. In the afternoon, she had Potions, which she shared with the fourth years. Currently, she was sitting underneath a shady tree out in the courtyard, taking advantage that the previous night's storm had lifted sometime during the morning and that the skies were clear and the sun was out.

Her second year transfiguration textbook was resting on her lap; Talia skimmed through the first two chapters, going over what she had studied during the summer. She wanted to make sure that she was prepared for whatever Professor McGonagall had in store for the second years.

Talia would have Transfiguration first thing next morning, and she did not want any surprises.

Sitting beside Talia was Draco, a copy of the Daily Prophet in his hands, and between him and her, there were the remnants of the sweets and cakes he'd received that morning through the mail. His mother always made it a habit to send her son foodstuffs, knowing just how much Draco enjoyed the chocolates, tarts, and cupcakes that she'd pick up from one of his favorite bakeries.

Talia had nearly cried when Draco had informed her that his mother had sent an extra box of chocolate bonbons, specifically for her. They were one of her favorite sweets, and Talia made a mental note to send her Aunt Cissy a thank-you note.

Draco kept snickering and scoffing as he read his paper, but Talia paid him no mind. She was already used to Draco's little quirks, and she had no doubt in her mind that he was currently adding his own little commentary to whatever ridiculous story that the newspaper had to offer.

"Did you eat the last chocolate cake?" Talia asked as she looked down at the pile of wrappers that rested between her and Draco.

"Yeah," said Draco absentmindedly, never taking his eyes away from the Prophet. "There should be a chocolate muffin left, though."

"It's got a chunk missing out of its side."

"Oops."

Talia rolled her eyes, but picked up the chocolate muffin that Draco hadn't finished eating, and proceeded to eat it herself.

It was just then that Harry and Ron walked past the tree they were sitting under, moaning about their Divination homework, it seemed. Talia only caught snippets of words, like "Uranus and Neptune" and "all weekend to finish"—she supposed they were talking about their homework.

Draco, catching sight of Harry and Ron, quickly stood up, straightening out his copy of the Daily Prophet rather obnoxiously, causing the paper to snap loudly.

"Hey, Weasley!" Draco called out, a rather pompous smirk on his lips, "your dad's in the paper!"

Talia immediately set down her half eaten muffin and quickly rushed to her feet, her transfiguration textbook sliding off her lap and landing on the grass facedown with a silent thud. "Draco, please don't—"

However, Draco wasn't paying her any attention. "Listen to this," he said rather loudly, making sure that all the passing students (who had been heading to the entrance hall to queue for dinner) had stopped to look and listen before he began to read from the paper:

**_FUTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_**

_It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, _writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent._ Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of __**Arnold**__ Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."_

"Draco, will you just stop thi—"

"Not now, Talia," said Draco, brushing her off. He had a malicious grin on his face as he looked at Ron, and proceeded to say, "Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?"

All the students were listening aptly to what Draco had to say, some laughing at Ron's quickly reddening face. Amongst the mocking stares, Talia saw Pansy, Goyle and Crabbe on either side of her. The pug-faced girl had on a self-satisfied smirk on her lips as she looked at Ron as if he were the scum on the bottom of her shoes, her arms crossed haughtily across her chest.

"What more does the paper have to say, Draco?" Pansy asked with a teasing grin.

"Pansy, will you just shut up?" said Talia with an irritated sigh, "we don't need you goading on Draco, alright?"

A few students snickered to that, while Harry and Ron both sent Talia small, grateful smiles.

But Draco was not done. He was in the spotlight, and he was not going to miss out on an opportunity to embarrass Ron Weasley.

"Oh Talia, stop it," he said with a roll of the eyes. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, here it is—"

_"Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer _Daily Prophet_ questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene."_

"Oh look, and there's a picture, Weasley," said Draco, turning the paper over so that everyone could see. "A picture of your parents outside their house—if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

"Draco!" hissed Talia, swatting his arm.

Draco merely smirked. Oh, he was enjoying this. He'd been going easy on Potter and his friends, because of Talia and how fond of them she was, but enough was enough. He wanted to have some fun.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," said Harry, seeing that Ron was shaking, his eyes narrowed into slits. "C'mon, Ron…"

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" Draco sneered.

"So was I!" exclaimed Talia, shoving Draco none to gently.

"And why you would decided to spend the night in that rat hole, I'll never understand," said Draco with a disgusted crinkle of his nose. "Anyways, so tell me—is Weasley's mother really that porky, or is it just the paper?"

"Draco, you take that back!" shouted Talia, her eyes narrowed in a fierce glare, "Mrs. Weasley is a wonderful woman! She doesn't deserve to be talked about like that!"

"Right," scoffed Draco, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, you just wait until we get back to the common room," Talia said darkly.

"C'mon, you can't seriously be defending that woman? I mean, have you even seen—"

_WOOSH._

Several students screamed, while Pansy all but wailed like a banshee. Ron had his wand out, a murderous expression on his face as he stared at Draco. There was a smoking dot on the tree trunk that Talia and Draco stood in front of—the aftermath of the curse Ron had cast.

"How **dare** you," hissed Draco, glaring daggers at Ron, "do you have any idea how close that was to Talia!? You could have hit her!"

Talia quirked an eyebrow, thinking, _well, this is… surprising._

"Sorry," said Ron sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Let's go Ron," prompted Harry, steering his friend away from a fuming Draco.

Draco growled, throwing down his copy of the _Daily Prophet_, and quickly took out his wand. This was the perfect moment—Harry and Ron had their backs to him, and he could curse them when they'd least expect it!

A curse was on the tip of his tongue, the nastiest one that he could think of, but a startling shout caused him to flinch before he could even wave his wand.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

**_ZAP!_**

Talia watched in muted horror as Draco quickly began shrinking, his features morphing, until there was nothing left of him. A pure white ferret now shivered on the grass, looking around wildly, whiskers twitching.

"Draco?" whispered Talia, tears stinging her eyes, unaware of Professor Moody's quick approach.

The white ferret immediately scurried towards her, and Talia dropped to her knees, scooping the scared little ferret into her arms.

"Aye! You girl, leave him!" yelled Professor Moody at Talia, before he turned to approach Harry and Ron.

Talia's head snapped up, and she stared at Professor Moody's back. A low, rumbling growl quickly began building up in her chest, and her eyes flashed yellow in anger. Gently she set the white ferret on the grass, before lunging at Professor Moody, teeth bared in a snarl. The full moon had only just recently passed…

But Professor Moody was quicker; it appeared that his "bad" eye could see out of the back of his head. Before Talia could even claw at him, he had waved his wand, and Talia was gone. In her place stood a small, little fennec fox, blinking around confusedly, little nose twitching.

"Is that even legal?" asked Ron softly, looking down at the two animals. He felt bad for Talia, she'd tried to defend his mother—Draco he could care less for.

Harry shook his head. _Oh, Hermione is just going to have a field day when she learns about this…_

"Did he get you?" growled Professor Moody as he stood before Harry and Ron.

Harry shook his head once more. "No, you… didn't give him a chance to shoot."

Professor Moody smirked, before turning away from the two Gryffindors. With a malicious little smirk, he looked down at the ferret and fox. The ferret quickly decided that it was better off elsewhere, and turned around speedily, letting out a terrified squeak before taking off.

The fox bolted after it.

"I don't think so!" yelled Professor Moody, lifting his wand and pointing it at the animals—they flew ten feet into the air, smacking against branches of the tree they'd been under, and then came down hard, before bouncing up once more.

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned, " hissed Professor Moody as he wove his wand; the animals smacked against the tree trunk, letting out loud, pained squeals. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…"

The animals flew through the air, flailing limbs and tails, scared out of their minds.

"Never—do—that—again—" said Professor Moody, speaking each word as the animals hit the tree trunk and bounced up into its branches, getting various cuts and bruises as they went.

"Professor Moody!" a shocked voice yelled above all the snickering students.

Professor McGonagall was quickly making her way through the crowd of students who had gathered around the tree to see the show, shoving students out of her way none to gently, and making hasty apologies as she went.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Professor Moody calmly, a small smile on his lips as he kept his wand trained on the floating animals, making them bounce in the air, going higher and higher into the tree.

"What are you—what's going on?" sputtered McGonagall, her eyes following the animals as they made their way through the air, weaving in and out of tree branches none to gently.

"I'm teaching," said Professor Moody simply.

"Teaching—Moody, _are those students_?" cried Professor McGonagall, a disbelieving look crossing her features.

"Yep."

"No!" yelled Professor McGonagall, stepping forwards. She quickly brandished her wand and wove it once, and with a loud snapping sound, Draco and Talia reappeared. They landed on the ground in a heap, red faced, robes askew. Talia whimpered in pain, and Draco winced, eyes watering.

The two Slytherins slowly got to their feet, leaning on one another for support. Tears began streaming down Talia's face, and she quickly brought her hands up to wipe them away, not wanting to give peoples another reason to make fun of her.

"Moody, we never use transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall, placing her hands on her hips. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might have mentioned it, yeah," shrugged Professor Moody, not at all interested in the conversation.

"We give detentions, Moody!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall, "Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that, then," Professor Moody said, staring at Talia and Draco with dislike burning in his eyes.

"Don't let him touch me," whispered Talia weakly, pushing herself into Draco's side.

Draco quickly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close, muttering, "Don't worry. Just wait until my father hears about—"

"Oh yeah?" hissed Professor Moody, cutting across Draco's sentence. "I know your father, boy… You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son… Now, you girl, what's your name?"

Talia didn't answer him. She had her head buried in Draco's chest as the tears kept pouring down her face. She had never been so scared in her life. This was worse than when her Boggart turned into Sirius' animagus.

"Your name, girl," asked Professor Moody impatiently.

"Natalia Snape," Draco answered for her, tightening his arm around her shoulders.

"_Snape_?" said Professor Moody, disbelieving. "Another old friend… never would have expected _him_ to reproduce. Well, c'mon you two, he's your Head of House, isn't he?"

Draco nodded his head, glaring.

"I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape… Let's go…"

Professor Moody made a grab for Talia, but she quickly screamed and stepped behind Draco, grabbing fistfuls of his robes as she looked over his shoulder at Professor Moody with wide, scared eyes. She did not want that man touching her—she did not want him anywhere _near _her!

"Don't you dare touch her!" Draco exclaimed, a murderous look in his eyes, his hand itching to take hold of his wand and curse Moody into next year.

Harry and Ron both shared a look, Pansy glared, and Professor McGonagall looked at the Slytherin boy with a surprised expression on her face. Never had she seen Draco so outwardly protective of someone; she knew the boy to be arrogant and only interested when something concerned him, but right now, he did not even care for himself. He stood his ground before Professor Moody, arms partially outstretched so that Talia was safely behind him—Professor McGonagall was astonished.

Professor Moody growled. "Why you—"

"I'll take her," interjected Professor McGonagall, stepping around Draco and placing a gentle hand on Talia's shoulder. Softly she spoke, "Let's go to your father, dearie."

Talia hesitantly nodded, and Professor McGonagall wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders, steering her through the crowd of students. Professor Moody followed behind her, his arm grasping Draco's as he pulled the boy along roughly.

_Oh Merlin_, thought Professor McGonagall as she entered the school and made her way towards the dungeons, _Severus will not like this, not at all…_

* * *

**AN:** I love this chapter, and I hate it.

I love it because Draco and Talia getting turned into animals was actually something that I was impatient to get out.

I hate it because I actually had to use the book to copy off some dialogue, but some things can't be helped.


	12. Snakes Underneath the Skin

"_There has been an incident. I shall be waiting for you in my private quarters. Bring Lupin._"

* * *

With a flash of green embers, Isabella and Remus appeared in Severus' sitting room. They stepped out of the grate, brushing soot and Floo powder off their shoulders, their eyes sharp as they searched the dark room. Something had happened with Talia, it was the only explanation that came to their minds for Severus to have called upon them so suddenly.

The sitting room was empty, and fear gripped Isabella as she began to imagine all of the horrible things that could have happened to her daughter. She held Remus' hand tightly, trying and failing to calm down. Not knowing what was wrong with her daughter or what had been done to her— it was pulling at her heartstrings. She felt a heaviness in her chest that pressed down on her heart, and every breath she took was shaky, her lungs feeling as if they were about to burst.

It had only been one day away from home, what could have possibly happened to Talia!?

Remus was in a similar state as his lover, though his outward appearance exuded nothing but calmness. However, inside his being, his wolf was raging, pacing back and forth in his mind like a caged animal, howling and demanding to know what was wrong with its pup. It could feel that something was wrong, that something horrible had happened, and the more seconds passed without any knowledge of the situation, the more Remus struggled with his other half. He needed to keep a level head, for he knew that Isabella was slowly loosing it. One of them needed to be the voice of reason, but if another moment passed without knowledge of his daughter's health, all hell would break loose.

_SLAP._

Severus' bedroom door burst open, hitting the stone wall behind it with a resounding slap that startled Isabella and Remus. A shadow stood in the doorway, and one sniff of the air let Remus know that it was Severus… and that the Potions Master was livid.

"Isabella… _Lupin_," Severus said curtly, a foul scowl on his lips as he quickly turned around and stepped back into his room, not another word said.

"Not good," muttered Isabella, allowing Remus to lead her into Severus' bedroom with a hand on her lower back. Severus was angry, his eyes were dark, and his hands were shaking. She could feel his magic crackling angrily around him, and it made her nervous.

What had happened?

There was a sniffling lump in Severus' unmade bed, piles of blankets and sheets forming a protective cocoon around the figure that was so obviously crying. It was Talia, and she held on tightly to one of her uncle's pillows, hugging it against her chest and burying her face in its soft fabric, inhaling the comforting scent of ginger roots and spices.

"Natalia," said Remus softly, catching the scared scent of his daughter, her salty tears stinging his nose.

Talia yelped in surprise from under her cocoon of blankets, and Isabella disentangled herself from Remus and rushed to her daughter's bedside.

"Talia," she cooed, sitting down on the edge of the bed and placing a hand on her daughter's cheek, "what's wrong? What has happened to you?"

"Severus," said Remus stiffly, his hands balled up at his sides, "we would _appreciate_ an explanation."

"I'm sure you would," sneered Severus. "Your daughter has been traumatized."

"What?" cried Isabella, "What do you mean she's—"

"Let me start from the beginning," hissed Severus, and that he did. He explained everything that had transpired between Talia, Draco, and Professor Moody, and Isabella and Remus listened with a mixture of surprise and enraged expressions on their faces.

"Where is that… _man_," spat Isabella, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Albus is currently talking to him," said Severus, "no doubt he's getting a warning and a rundown on how we do things here."

"He deserves more than a warning," said Isabella viciously, gently stroking her daughter's hair away from her tear stained face.

"And Draco?" asked Remus, "is he… alright?"

"I'm surprised you even care," said Severus with an incredulous look.

Remus rolled his eyes. "I may not be overtly… _fond_ of Draco, but no one deserves to be so brutally bullied like that."

"Could have fooled me," scoffed Severus, before quickly saying, "Mr. Malfoy is currently in my classroom awaiting punishment."

"You're going to punish him?" asked Isabella indignantly, "after what that man did to him?"

"What do you suggest?" asked Severus, quirking an eyebrow.

Isabella hesitated for a moment, before looking at Remus and saying, "Stay with Talia. I need to go see to Draco."

Remus nodded, saying nothing. He knew how much Isabella cared for the boy; he couldn't really understand what Isabella saw in him, but there was something there that Isabella deemed worth saving, and Remus would respect her affections for the Malfoy heir.

The boy was kind to his daughter—it was enough for Remus to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Hurry back," said Remus softly, giving his lover a small smile, before he took her place sitting on Talia's bedside, stroking his daughter's hair tenderly, and assuring her that he'd drive away all her nightmares.

Severus led the way out of his private quarters, Isabella's arm looped around his to keep up appearances should they run into anyone. They walked in silence for a moment, before he made the split second decision of shoving her into the nearest broom cupboard and sealing the door behind them.

"Severus, what the fuc—"

Severus covered Isabella's mouth with his hand, causing her eyes to widen in surprise.

"Do not make a sound," he hissed darkly, "just look."

Isabella remained silent as Severus took his hand away from her mouth, and she watched him intently as he began to unbutton his left sleeve. A silent gasp left her lips as she saw the dark blotch of ink on his inner forearm, moving around as if it were alive.

The tattoo had faded throughout the years; the skull and snake had been nothing but a blurred smudge on Severus' pale skin… but now…

"Severus—"

"Just look," Severus hissed darkly, but his eyes softened.

Shakily, Isabella placed her hands on his forearm; her index finger tracing the spidery black lines that danced underneath his skin. Its original shape and coloring still had a few ways to go before the tattoo was restored to its former glory, but the fact that the mark was no longer dormant was the real problem.

"You know what this means," Severus said softly, his face pale, his eyes losing their eagle-like sharpness.

"He's coming back," Isabella whispered, tears stinging her eyes. "Severus, when did this start?"

"The first week of August," Severus said softly, a haunted expression crossing his features, "The mark, it burned one night. It started with a tingle, and then it felt like snakes were slithering underneath my skin. I thought nothing of it because it couldn't possibly mean that… that _He_ was back, but then Lucius… he came to me one night, while you and Talia were sleeping… he showed me his mark, and told me _things_."

"Severus?" Isabella whispered, raising her hands and cupping her cousin's hollow cheeks. "Tell me it's not true. Please, tell me that it is _not_ true…"

"He's coming back, Isabella," Severus said gravely, "Lucius confirmed it."

* * *

**AN:** Well, this chapter took a turn for the worst... an unexpected turn, no?  
My reasoning for it (other than the fact that I wanted Voldy's imminent return out there) is that it was something that Sev couldn't hide anymore, and also that Moody's confrontation with him about the whole Talia thing made Sev think... I'm not making much sense, am I? Sorry about that. My muse has turned into a Trekkie and just... Dr. McCoy, GOD DAMN.

I'm distracted.


End file.
